Tainted by the Past
by CelticPagan-3
Summary: The Golden Trio have saved the Wizarding World & lived to tell the tale. What will they do with a future they never thought they'd get? The boys escape their last childhood restraints, Hermione finishes her education & tries find a way to escape the future her parents have planned. She develops an unlikely friendship with Draco Malfoy who returns to Hogwarts to escape his own past.
1. Chapter 1: The Dawn of a New Era

**_A/N: Hello! Welcome to my new fic! I've had this story brewing in my mind for months, and after making a mountain of notes, and writing so many scenes for it, I decided it was time to start publishing._  
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**_To anyone who has been following A Crack in the Glass, don't worry, I haven't forgotten about it, but my head has been so full of Dramione lately, I thought I should start getting most if it down, then I can fully concentrate on finishing off Harmony._**

**_A couple of things to set the scene, This piece starts immediately after the final battle (it also completely ignores the 'Nineteen Years Later' epilogue), I've tried to keep as close to the book as possible, I haven't added any new deaths, nor kept anyone alive. - for a full synopsis of the fic you can check check out my profile, which has a list of stories and a more detailed description of their content :D_**

**_And now, I'll let you read :D Enjoy!_**

**_xBx_**

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**~ Chapter 1: The Dawn of a New Era ~**

The Golden Trio descended the staircase from the Head's office, only now did they begin to feel just how exhausted they were; not only were they aching in every bone in their body, but their minds were slowly clouding over, barely aware of where their feet were taking them. Hermione looked at Harry and Ron: Ron was still covered in slime from their trip down to the Chamber of Secrets, his clothes were singed from the fire in the Room of Requirement, and he was covered in blood from the various injuries he had sustained throughout the day. It seemed a lifetime ago that they had escaped from Gringotts on the dragon, but in reality it had only been about nine hours. Hermione then turned her gaze to Harry: he wasn't covered in slime like Ron, but he was covered in dirt and leaves, from his solo journey into the forest, and like Ron he had his fair amount of battle wounds, his clothes were just as singed, but perhaps Harry had a little more blood on him, she thought.

"We should go back to the Great Hall," voiced Hermione quietly, finally breaking the silence, "See what we can do to help."

Ron grunted in half-hearted agreement, but Harry remained silent. Immediately Hermione knew what he was thinking, she always knew: he was feeling guilty about the lives lost in what he believed was his battle alone – Harry would never change, no matter how many times people told him that they would fight by his side out of their own free will, he still maintained the notion that he was solely responsible for their actions, and therefore responsible for their deaths. She reached a hand out to his arm and he looked around at her, not bothering to conceal the pain in his eyes, and Hermione sighed.

Smiling sadly at him, she whispered: "This was never your fault, there was always going to be a battle, whether you were at the head of it or not." She said consolingly, then added: "You may as well get it over with, you're going to have to show your face sooner or later, and people will be wanting, quite probably expecting, to see you. And we'll be with you the whole time, the way it's always been." She smiled reassuringly.

By the time the trio re-entered the hall, dawn was upon them, and daylight was beginning to filter through the (now glassless) windows.

The next few hours passed in a blur: the seriously injured were cared for first; most of the badly wounded had already been sent to St. Mungos, the rest had been given sleeping draughts, allowing them to sleep undisturbed through the pain until Madame Pomfrey, with the assistance of a number of remaining NEWT students, could get around to treating their ailments.

When the most afflicted had been attended to, and the only injuries that remained to be seen were the minor ones, Harry, Ron and Hermione, along with the rest of the able-bodied students and teachers, began to organise a cleaning and repairing of the school. There was little to be done at that time, too much grief, and too much chaos surrounded them; they simply split themselves across the castle and grounds, surveyed the full extent of the damage, and regrouped to discuss the best place to start on the Morrow. The sun was high in the sky by the time they retired to Gryffindor tower – a most welcome home to them, after the longest year of their lives.

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Draco Malfoy sat in a corner of the great hall; he didn't really know what to do. He felt like he should be doing something to help, but he was a Malfoy. How welcome would his attempts be? So far no one seemed to be taking any notice of him and his parents – Potter had acknowledged him early on, with no trace of malice in his looks; that had to count for something. But everyone else gave them a wide berth, pretending they weren't even there. When dawn came creeping upon the horizon an Auror approached them, and spoke directly to Lucius:

"Mister Malfoy, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to accompany me to the ministry." The Auror stated, very matter-of-fact, Lucius sighed and stood up; Draco could see in his Father's face that he had been expecting this for a long time.

The Auror continued, "You understand that I have to take you into custody, you were seen fighting with Death Eaters, we have to take you for questioning, and you will be held in a cell in Azkaban until a trial can be arranged."

Lucius held out his hands, "Bind me up and take me away. There's no use denying what we all know to be true."

As Lucius' hands were tied, the Auror then tuned to Draco's mother, "And you as well, m'am, I'm afraid. You are charged with the same offence, I have to take you in with your Husband."

"No." commanded Lucius, "Narcissa only did what I bid her do. She should take no part in this"

Narcissa put a hand on her husband's arm to calm him, "It's alright, it has to be done, I'll serve my time." She turned to the Auror, "But Draco? My son, he took no part - "

The Auror cut her off, "Draco, though he is of age, is still a student. He is under the care of Hogwarts we cannot arrest him. As far as the Ministry is concerned, he is not part of this out of his own free will, he is safe from us."

Narcissa turned for one last look at her son, before the Auror escorted her and her husband out the hall, out of Hogwarts and out of Draco's life.

Not long after, Draco saw the Golden Trio re-enter the hall; immediately they were fell upon by survivors, wanting to thank them for helping end the fight, wanting them to join them in prayers and mourning for the lost souls. Draco decided he had been idling long enough, he had no injuries to speak of, he was near enough the most able bodied person present; her might as well be put to some use. He went in search of Madame Pomfrey, hoping she would give him something useful to do.

"Well, Draco Malfoy. If I'm honest, I never expected you would be here to help us at the end. But I won't say no to you, I need all the help I can get."

"Put me to use, what do you need me to do?" Draco insisted, ignoring the slight – he was expecting a lot of reprimands over the coming weeks, probably even months…where once the name 'Malfoy' was like a magic word, and could get you anything you wanted, it had now fast become a curse and most certainly had it's drawbacks.

Madame Pomfrey thought for a moment, then said: "From what I have gathered from Slughorn, you're rather proficient at brewing. I'm going to be running low on a couple of potions very soon I think; they take a few hours to brew mind you, but less than twenty-four hours, and I will be needing them in that time. I shall have most of the ingredients in my pantry, up in the hospital wing – you'll also find the directions to the brews I require in there as well. If I give you a list of potions, can you brew them for me?"

Draco nodded, "Of course, since Granger left, I'm the best student in this school – potions is my best subject. I can do them perfectly for you."

"Good" Madame Pomfrey said briskly, whipping out a quill and parchment, and scratching down four potions. She handed the list to Draco, "If you can't find everything you need in my stores, go to Slughorn's store-cupboard, I'm sure he won't mind."

"Right away. How much do you need me to make?"

"As much as you can, my dear. As much as you can." She sighed, before bustling off to attend to the survivors.

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Halfway to Gryffindor Tower the trio were joined by Neville, who had left the hall not long after themselves. The foursome walked the rest of the way in silence, too exhausted to speak. Upon entering the tower, they walked into a large group of girls conjuring sleeping bags and rearranging the furniture. Upon receiving puzzled looks, one of the Gryffindors spoke up before any of the four could ask the question:

"The girls' tower has been blasted." She said, "you can't get any higher than the third floor, the rest of us are finding spaces on the lower floors or down here."

Hermione turned to the boys, "Dean and Seamus are spending the night down in the Hall, aren't they?" She asked.

Neville nodded, "Madame Pomfrey doesn't want them moving yet, they need more potions and she's running low. Apparently she has a NEWT student brewing more as we speak."

"I'm taking one of their beds" Hermione declared, and proceeded over to the staircase leading up to the boys' dorms, closely followed by the boys, Neville didn't have the energy to protest, while Ron and Harry were so used to sharing a confined space with Hermione, it would seem odd to not have her sleeping in the same room. Up in the room that Ron and Harry hadn't been in for a year, Hermione pulled her sequin bag out of her sock, where she had put it after jumping from the Dragon's back, and started rummaging through it. Neville laid himself down on his bed and was asleep within minutes. Hermione dragged out Harry's backpack, and pulled out a towel and her bag of toiletries.

"I'm going to take a proper shower before I try and sleep; get rid of the build of blood, grime, and whatever else I'm covered in. I hate to think what I look like."

"I'm sure we look just as bad," Harry smiled, "I'll hop in after you – you don't mind me going through the bag?"

"You don't have to ask, just rummage." Hermione laughed, still amazed at Harry's politeness after all these months.

Twenty minutes later Hermione emerged from the bathroom looking a great deal cleaner, though the removal of the layer of dirt she had accumulated brought into sharp relief the multitude of bruises covering her body. She was dressed in a pair of loose fitting track-pants that hung low on her hips, coupled with a plain, close fitting singlet that fell to her waist, leaving an inch of skin visible above her hips, hinting at her toned midriff. She had pulled her hair into a tight French-braid, trying to keep the curls under control. Hermione fell onto one of the empty beds as Harry stood up and went to shower. Hermione stared at the ceiling, listening to the snores surrounding her – both Ron and Neville had fallen almost instantly to sleep. She was still wide awake when Harry re-appeared, looking far less frightening now he had washed away all the blood, though he too was covered in a multitude of bruises. He laid himself down on his bed, and in five minutes he too was asleep. Hermione sighed, and closed her eyes.

The room had been silent for near a full hour, and although Hermione had the curtains drawn around the bed allowing no light to enter, she still couldn't settle herself to sleep. Rising as quietly as she could she slipped out of the bed and into some shoes, and slid into a hooded jacket laying on top of Harry's backpack - she was sure Harry wouldn't be needing it anytime soon, and she had been often wearing the boys' shirts and sweaters for so long that neither of them objected anymore. She stole out of the boys' dorm and went down into the common room, a few Gryffindors were scattered among the comfy chairs, and around the floor on an array of camp-beds and sleeping bags that had been conjured; Hermione made her way quickly and quietly through the throng, and out of the portrait hole. She stood out in the corridor for a full five minutes, not knowing where she wanted to go, only knowing that she wanted to walk. In the end she found herself walking down into the basements and cellars, taking the route to the kitchen; she tickled the green pear and watched it turn into the hidden handle, like she had many times before, years ago, suddenly feeling older than her years – the past year had aged her a lot.

When she entered the kitchen, she was surprised to see that she wasn't the only human there. Draco Malfoy sat at one of the long, scrubbed, wooden table, cradling a steaming mug in his hands.

Hermione stopped short when she saw him, "Malfoy," she said in a tone of surprise.

He looked up at the sound of her voice, "Granger," he greeted with a small nod, before turning back to his drink.

Hermione shrugged, and walked into the centre, deciding to avoid any possible confrontation by simply ignoring his presence – she was far too tired for any drama. She scanned the room with a frown, a handful of house-elves were milling around the pots, though not one of them appeared to be Kreacher.

"Looking for someone, Granger?" Draco Malfoy had obviously been taking note of her actions, unaware of her wish to avoid all forms of communication.

"I was just hoping to find Kreacher down her," she said quietly, without turning to face him. No sooner had she said his name then Kreacher appeared out of the large larder at the other end of the room, within seconds he was by her side.

"Is everything alright Miss Hermione? Does Master Harry need something of me?" He asked immediately, there was little warmth in his voice when he addressed her, but there was no coldness either, Hermione smiled at the improvement,

"No, no, it's nothing like that Kreacher. I only wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Perfectly so, Miss. Can I get you a tea miss?" Kreacher continued in perfect civility.

"Actually, yes please," Hermione said, taking a seat at the large table, opposite Malfoy, "A tea would be great." Within seconds a steaming mug was placed in front her. Before Kreacher could disappear to any duties, Hermione spoke to him again,

"I also wanted to thank you, Kreacher, for rallying the house-elves during the battle. It was an incredibly brave thing to do. And, I also wanted to apologise," Hermione said quietly, "For abandoning you last September. We never meant to leave you without any warning. I hope we didn't put you in danger – we were followed from the Ministry: our little operation didn't go quite as smoothly as we'd hoped - as soon as we appeared onto the top step, I apparated us all out again in an instant. But I don't know if the follower managed to see where we landed." Hermione tried to explain, hoping her exhausted ramblings made some sort of sense to the elf, Kreacher cut through her babbling.

"No one came calling Miss, if that is what you are asking? I saw four of you appear on the step – I was watching for your return from an upstairs window." Kreacher explained, "But you disappeared again so quickly. The Man never came back. No one has entered the House of Black since you three left. Will master Harry be returning anytime soon?" Kreacher asked,

"Erm, I honestly don't know, Kreacher, I'm sorry. I think it will be highly likely. But I'll tell him to let you know, when he wakes up."

"Thank you, Miss. Now, if you will excuse me, I will continue cooking for those who are awake."

Hermione smiled, and Kreacher turned back to his duties. Hermione turned to her drink, still smiling at the change in Kreacher since she had first met him. She had completely forgotten Draco Malfoy's presence – throughout her conversation he had been quiet, but had drank in every word, raising his eyebrows at the mention of the 'Ministry operation' which spiked his curiosity, and frowning at 'the House of Black' – he had heard of that house, though how, when or why he couldn't seem to remember at that moment.

After a few minutes of contemplation, Draco decided to break the silence:

"If Potter is asleep, I take it Weasley is also. How come you're not sleeping as well?" He asked, emotionlessly.

Hermione looked up, and shrugged, "Couldn't sleep. It feels strange being back here, after the year I've had. I never thought I'd see the place again." She answered honestly, too exhausted to think of anything witty, and too emotionally drained for anything approaching hostilities – right now they were both just two ordinary people, survivors of the war, their past grievances seemed momentarily forgotten.

"How come you're here?" Hermione asked.

"Here in the kitchen? Or here in the castle at all?" Draco clarified, Hermione smiled and chuckled at his frankness.

"Both," she answered.

"I have no where else to go," Draco answered truthfully, repaying her recent honesty with likewise candidness,

"My parents are currently in the custody of the Ministry for being Death Eaters, home isn't somewhere I really want to face right now and I couldn't stay in Slytherin Dungeon, it's too…too cold" he finished, meaningfully.

"Too empty?" Hermione asked, "I can't imagine there being many Slytherins left, apparently they all fled at the beginning."

It was Draco's turn to chuckle, "Actually, I counted about a dozen Slytherins in the common room alone, I'm sure there were more in their dorms – All fighting against Voldemort, I might add. They don't know what to say to me, they can't even look at me. Understandable really considering my behaviour these past two years." He finished quietly.

Hermione had no idea what to say in response, so simply drank her tea. Five more minutes passed of silence not particularly awkward, but it wasn't comfortable either. Draco broke it yet again,

"What made you think you would never return here?" he asked, suddenly remembering her earlier comment.

"I thought I'd be on the run with Harry and Ron for years." Hermione stated truthfully, the words coming out of her mouth before she could even think of discretion,

"I never dreamed we'd find all the…erm, I mean...I didn't think we'd do what we had to do so quickly" she corrected herself, her mind finally catching up with her mouth and not wanting to tell all the truthful details, nor invite anymore questions than necessary.

Thankfully, Draco immediately understood her change of sentencing as a wish for discretion; he nodded, letting her know he wouldn't ask questions, that he would ignore her slip-up and allow her to continue freely, despite the fact his curiosity was spiked. As she spoke again, he couldn't help but ponder what they had been looking for.

Hermione continued, grateful for Draco's silence. "It all just seemed to snowball. We didn't even know we would be coming here until about five minutes before we apparated into Hogsmeade." Hermione gave a quick, humourless chuckle, "Then, when I knew I would be returning, I knew I would be going into _the _battle, the one we'd been working towards since we left the castle last year. And, truth be told, a part of me had never expected myself to survive up to that point – an even bigger part of me didn't expect me to survive the battle at all. But I did. And now I'm here, not quite believing it's all over, not knowing what my next move is." She finished.

Draco simply nodded, wondering what she had been doing while on the run, that made her think she wouldn't survive – she looked pretty beat up: all the while she had been talking, Hermione had been staring into her mug, but Draco had been taking in her appearance. She was covered in cuts, scars and bruises – halfway through talking she had unconsciously pushed up the sleeves of her jacket to her elbows displaying an array of cuts bruises and small burns, as well as the 'mudblood' scar courtesy of his Aunt Bella. At one point the jacket Hermione was wearing had fallen down off her right shoulder revealing what looked like a larger burn, and a long, deep gash which had healed over possibly only a month ago, judging from the pinkness of the scar that was beginning to take form.

He couldn't help but notice that her wounds appeared to be at various stages of the healing process, some scars were already established (though their whiteness told Draco they were less than a year old), some bruises were yellowing, while others were a dark purple, and some cuts were only recently healed over: whatever Hermione, Ron and Harry had been doing, it appeared to Draco to be a lot more than simply lying low and hiding – Maybe there was truth in the rumours he had heard. But he refrained from saying anything, retained his questions. Now wasn't the time.

The pair spent the rest of their time in silence, and when Hermione had finished her drink she got up and made her way back to Gryffindor Tower – She mumbled a quick 'goodbye' to Draco upon leaving the kitchen. She looked almost dead on her feet, she was that exhausted and Draco thought it highly likely that she would wake up after a long sleep and think all this had been a dream – she had certainly seemed half asleep for most of their encounter.

When Hermione finally made it back into Gryffindor tower, everyone in the common room was asleep, though it had barely passed 1pm. She crept her way back up to the boy's dorm: Neville was still fast asleep, one arm slung over the edge of the bed, poking through the curtains, snores were coming from behind Ron's curtains - he clearly wasn't waking up any time soon. Harry, however, was sat on the edge of his bed staring out of the window.

"Hey," Hermione spoke quietly, not wanting to wake the others, "I thought you would be asleep for longer," she sat herself down in the middle of the bed next to Harry's, as Harry shrugged.

"Couldn't sleep." He responded just as quietly, "Too used to only sleeping a few hours at a time I guess, my body seems to think it's time for my watch."

Hermione laughed, and lay herself down, "Yeah, it's going to take some getting used to, going back to a normal routine."

Harry nodded, then asked, "How come you're awake already?"

"I never went to sleep," she yawned, "I was staring at the ceiling for an hour after you guys fell asleep – apparently my body believed I was taking first watch." She smiled at Harry, who laughed. Hermione continued, "I went down to the kitchens had some tea. I saw Kreacher" she added, through another yawn, "He wants to know when you want to return to Grimmauld Place."

Harry frowned, "Is it safe? I know the Aurors were rounding up the Death Eaters this morning, but I doubt they'll have them all for a long time. The last time we were there-" he trailed off, Hermione jumped in, she had known where his thoughts were leading as soon as he'd uttered his first three words.

"Kreacher said no one has been there. He saw us return from the Ministry, he saw the guy who jumped on us, he said we appeared and instantly disappeared again. That guy never returned; Kreacher doesn't believe he had time to take in his surroundings before we disappeared again. Apparently he was still on me when I disapparated, so I got him out of Grimmauld Place. God knows where I dropped him though. Or in how many pieces, come to think of it," Hermione frowned, thinking for the first time about the wizard who had almost caught them several months ago.

Harry laughed, "I wouldn't worry too much about that, if I remember rightly he wasn't planning on being nice to us." Hermione laughed again and looked at Harry, when Harry finally turned to meet her gaze she sighed, and the smile slipped slightly,

"You look like hell," she said bluntly, "You need to sleep."

"Thank you, you really know how to make a guy feel good," he said dryly, Hermione grinned sleepily, and Harry continued, "You know, you don't look too great yourself?"

"I know, that's why I'm going to go to sleep. You need more sleep as well. So lay down, and sleep." She ordered him, before closing her eyes, as sleep finally washed over her.

When Hermione finally awoke it was dark outside, she lay quiet for a moment, taking time to remember her surroundings. When she finally remembered where she was, she turned onto her side and saw both Ron and Harry's beds were empty. Hermione frowned and a knot formed in her stomach; they hadn't gone anywhere without her for nearly a year and it felt a little strange to be alone again. Before she could completely dispel her anxiety, movement near the doorway caused her to sit up quickly, instinctively reaching for her wand. Looking over she saw Neville entering the room with a candle; he smiled when he saw she was awake,

"How did you sleep?" He asked,

"Not bad, what time is it?" she asked, smiling at herself being so nervous.

"Five-thirty. The sun will be rising soon. Harry and Ron are already awake, they've just gone down to the kitchens looking for food." Neville explained, Hermione stretched herself out,

"I can't believe I slept so long," She turned to Neville, "How are Dean and Seamus doing? Have you heard anything new while I've been asleep?" She asked.

Neville grinned, "Yeah, I've just come back from the hall, they're doing great. They'll be needing a couple more blood-replenishing potions throughout the day, but they should be up and about, and ready to leave Madame Pomfrey's care by the end of the day."

Hermione's smile widened, "That's great!" she said, before Neville continued,

"I just came back to try and find my dragon-hide gloves. I left all my things here when I escaped to the Room of Requirement, but they should still be here." He started to search his belongings, "Those of us who are awake are making a start on the clean-up." He explained, "I'm heading outside with Professor Sprout – the greenhouses are a right mess, and we have to start somewhere. People made a start on the Hospital wing last night, it's nearly ready to be used again."

Hermione nodded, "I'm gong to take a quick shower, freshen up. Then I'll come down to help." She said,

"Righto," Neville called over his shoulder, as he went down onto his knees to search under the bed, "I'll catch you later."

Hermione turned and walked into the bathroom adjoining the dorm room, as she shut the door behind her she heard Neville exclaim "Yes! Got them!"

She smiled, and turned on the shower, as the room filled with steam she heard the door close, signalling Neville's departure. Sighing, Hermione stripped off her clothes and stepped into the hot torrent of water, preparing herself for the days ahead.

By the end of a week, the castle was starting to resemble less of a battlefield, and more like the prestigious establishment it once was. Harry, Ron and Hermione were on the seventh floor, clearing the corridor where the entrance to the Room of Requirement was – or once was, none of them had tried to enter it, so they had no idea if it could still operate after the fire – when they were approached by Professor McGonagall, closely followed by Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"If you have time to spare, you three, we would like to discuss something with you." Still, McGonagall had the gift of making you feel guilty about something, even though you had done nothing wrong; the three followed silently to the head's office, where she seated herself behind the desk, Kingsley stood behind her. The three took the seats in front, silent and slightly nervous.

McGonagall gave a rare smile, "There's no need to look so worried you're not in any trouble. I was just wanting discuss your options, what are you planning to do now?"

The three looked at each other, Hermione answered first, "Well, when I've done what I can here, I would like to find my parents again, restore their memories. And then, if it is permissible, I think I would like to return here, and finish my education. I can't get into the Ministry without my NEWTS" she added with a small smile.

"Actually," Kingsley spoke up, "with good recommendations, and given the circumstances of this year, it will be possible for students in your year to potentially gain entry into the ministry training programmes before acquiring their NEWTs. I've recently been appointed the new Minister for Magic. I know you Hermione, you can get into any Ministry trainee position you wanted. I've never known a brighter, nor more vigilant witch."

"Thank you sir, I will certainly think about it, but I'd like some time to consider all my options, if that is permissible."

"Of course," added McGonagall, "You are more than welcome back to Hogwarts in September, Miss Granger, if you so chose. I will be sending out owls to all the students of your year, inviting them to retake – on in some instances take for the first time – their final year here. Or if you think going straight into the Ministry is more to your liking, Kingsley will talk more to you about that, I'm sure" Kingsley nodded his assent.

"Now, you two," McGonagall said turning to the boys, "Kingsley has an offer for you two in particular."

"Yes" Kingsley joined back in, "This year, we have sustained heavy losses to our Aurors, the best we have served us well, but not many survived. You two have been outstanding this year. I don't know the half of what you have done, or what you have endured, but I've heard enough. And I've seen enough. I would like you both to join the Auror department immediately, if you are willing. You're under no obligation to give me an answer right away, but if you do take up this offer, you will be instated immediately – I think you've done enough to prove your worth, without having to immediately take all the aptitude and stealth tests, though these will possibly be taken at a later date, once the department is back in order. Of course, you won't be obligated to start immediately, you should take some time to be with your family, and your friends, but we would like you to start some time in early July, should you decide you want to come on board."

Kingsley then turned to Hermione, while the boys digested Kingsley's offer,

"Hermione, this offer is also open to you: if this past year has brought around ideas of a career change – I remember talking to you once about your career, and I remember you saying becoming an Auror was not high on your list, but should you change you're mind, there will always be a position for you."

"Thank you, sir. But I think I've had my fair share of fighting experience. I would however, be very grateful for information about the other trainee positions I would be eligible for," Hermione replied.

"Of course, I'll compile all the relevant information and paperwork for you, and get them sent to you right away." Kingsley then turned back to Harry and Ron, "And you two? Do you have a decision?"

Harry nodded, "Thank you sir, I'll take you up on that offer. I'd be a fool to turn it down"

Ron nodded too "Count me in. There's a lot left to do, I know that. And I want to be part of it."

Kingsley smiled, then turned back to Hermione, "One last thing, would you like some assistance finding your parents? After everything you've done, I would be more than happy to arrange for their return and memory re-modification, if you could just tell me the necessary information, I can have people out in the field this evening."

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**_A/N: So there you have it, hope you enjoyed it. If you feel like leaving as review, please do, I love to hear what you guys think!_**

**_I will be turning my attention back to A Crack in the Glass, so even though chapters 2&3 and both part written, it might be a while before they're ready for publishing, but I'll try not to be too long, with either story lol_**

**_xBx_**


	2. Chapter 2: Options

**_A/N: Well, my second update is a little earlier than I had anticipated...turns out I still can't seem to find the words for 'A Crack in the Glass...' but this fic is coming along pretty well._  
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**_Thank you to everyone who read the first chapter, and thank you to my first reviewer! :) Hope you like chapter 2...just a quick note, I've taken some liberties with Hermione's character, I've decided to have her coming from an affluent background - I don't go into much detail in this chapter, but her background will come into play more as the story progresses._**

**_xBx_**

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**~ Chapter 2: Options ~**

The trio spent the next week at Hogwarts, still assisting with the clean up. After their brief tête-à-tête in the kitchens after the battle, Hermione had been frequently spotting Draco Malfoy, keeping to himself, sometimes working away on the castle, sometimes carrying a vast amount of potions bottles to and from the hospital wing – or so she assumed. Whenever they happened across each other she would always nod in acknowledgement, a courtesy that was always returned. By the end of week, Hermione's civility had even stretched to speech: On her way down to the hall around dinner time, in the company of Harry and Ron, they passed him clearing rubble from a hidden staircase, and Hermione spoke to him without a seconds thought:

"I didn't realise there was still rubble to clear away, I thought it all got done last week?" She asked him, with civil curiosity.

Malfoy turned at her voice, and shrugged, "In all the obvious places, yeah." He replied, with equal candidness, "I don't think many people use this particular short-cut though, I only noticed this lot yesterday." He explained.

"Need a hand?" Hermione offered, receiving strange looks from Ron and Harry, which she chose to ignore.

"Don't worry about it. Pretty much got it sorted now." Draco even gave a small smile.

Hermione shrugged, "Ok then. See you around."

Draco nodded and turned back to his work, as Hermione continued to the marble staircase, closely followed by Harry and Ron.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron asked incredulously as they began their decent toward the entrance hall. "You do realise that was Malfoy you were being so friendly to?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I was merely being civil. After the year we've had, the last thing I want to do is to renew petty disagreements. We're not twelve anymore. I'm not going to go out of my way to be nasty."

"But it's Malfoy! And as the years went by, it became a little more than petty disagreements" Ron reiterated. "In fact, I think I remember him trying to kill us rather recently."

Harry spoke up then, "Ron, give it a rest mate. At the end of the day, he's here isn't he? He hasn't gone on the run, that's got to say something in his favour. I think Hermione's right. Things are different now, we may as well be civil. And it wasn't malfoy that burnt down the Room of requirement, it was Crabbe who conjured the fiendfyre."

Ron looked from Harry to Hermione and back again. "Have you two forgotten what happened at his home?"

Hermione turned slowly on the spot to face Ron squarely, "Are you serious?" she asked quietly, "Have I forgotten that you two were thrown into the cellars, while Bellatrix Lestrange tortured me to within an inch of my sanity?" She pulled up her left sleeve and thrust her arm under Ron's nose, "Have I forgotten that she carven _this _into my skin, lest I forget just how low-born I am? No Ron. Of course I haven't forgotten." Hermione never raised her voice, but the anger was there, and didn't escape Ron, who took a step backwards and looked down at his feet, mumbling a barely audible "Sorry".

Hermione whirled around and dashed down the stairs, taking deep calming breaths before she completely exploded in his face, Harry and Ron followed silently, a few paces behind – Harry being sure to give Ron a small shake of his head a look that clearly conveyed the thought: "Seriously, dude? Did you have to go there?"

Unbeknown to the three of them, Draco had finished up clearing the hidden staircase, and had followed in their footsteps only a few minutes behind, and walking with a quicker step, he had caught up with them in time to hear Ron ask: "Have you forgotten what happened at his home?"

Hearing Hermione's response, and the mention of his Aunt, made him realise they had been talking about him, and referring to _his _home. He therefore stepped back, out of their view, feeling that now would be rather an uncomfortable moment to enter their notice again. Seeing Hermione flash her 'Mudblood' scar made him even more uncomfortable, and slightly sick, as he remembered the night she had been given it. He suddenly lost his appetite, and he retreated back to the staircase he had been working on, to begin his attempts to repair the damage to the stairs.

At the end of the week, Ron departed for The Burrow, to be with his family, still grieving for the loss of Fred, and to help with the funeral arrangements. Harry and Hermione returned to Grimmauld Place, along with Kreacher, and began to make the place into a home. There was very little left for them to do: Kreacher had outdone himself the past couple of weeks cleaning the house from top to bottom in anticipation of his master's return – he had even lit the fires in all the principal rooms the night before Harry and Hermione had returned, to warm the place through and clear out the flues.

The only rooms left to really sort were the bedrooms: Harry had decided to use Sirius' old room as his bedroom, and Hermione used one of the larger guest bedrooms, which happened to be across the hall from Harry – the only other room on that floor was Regalus' bedroom, which Harry decided to leave as it was, as a kind of tribute, after all Regalus had started the hunt for the Horcruxes, he was the first to find one, Harry had technically continued his work. He also gave Kreacher free use of the room, as a gesture of friendship and gratitude for all his help the past year – a gesture that Hermione fully condoned.

After a few days in London, Hermione decided it was time for her to return to her parent's house: after being shut up for near enough a year, it would no doubt need a good going over before it was fit for her parents return.

When she voiced this decision over dinner, Harry immediately offered his services,

"I don't mind," He told her, "and I'll have the time: this place is pretty much sorted now, I'm sure Kreacher won't mind me disappearing for a few hours to give you a hand."

Hermione smiled, "It's alright, don't worry about it. Me and my wand will have the cleaning sorted in a couple of days – the rest will be all paperwork: I'll need to get my parent's business affairs sorted out, ready for them to jump straight back in," Hermione explained, "It's that which is going to take the time. And anyway," she added, "You should be using your free time to prepare for your new job. Has Kingsley been in touch with you any more about it?"

Harry's countenance brightened at the mention of work, "Yeah, actually he called round while you were out with Ginny, dropped off some paperwork for me to look over – you should see the size of the handbook, it's huge!"

Hermione laughed, "Well you better start reading, you're on your own now, you can't be relying on me to give you the gist of things anymore."

Harry had the decency to blush, "I read most of the things, and I read more than Ron." He mumbled, as Hermione laughed. Kreacher began clearing the table, and the pair leaned back in their seats, finishing their wine and letting their food digest.

"That was really good, Kreacher, Thank you." Hermione complimented as Kreacher removed her plate. Kreacher accepted the praise with a smile, and continued clearing.

Harry then remembered what else Kingsley had called round for: "Oh I almost forgot, he left a bunch of paperwork for you, as well," He said, summoning over a large stack of parchments, and setting them down in front of Hermione, where her plate had previously been. "It's all the information about trainee positions you requested."

Harry smirked then, as Hermione gaped at the pile in front of her, and added, "He asked me to apologise for the delay, but when people started hearing that Hermione Granger was looking at her options, a few more trainee programmes became available, but the paperwork just needed to be finished up."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "So there's something from every department?" she asked,

Harry nodded, "Pretty much. Well, except from the Department of Mysteries."

"They don't have a programme?" Hermione asked, frowning in confusion, "I thought they did."

"Oh they do. But our names have the opposite effect on those guys, when Kingleys said he was sending the details to you, they withdrew their paprwork, claimed they were fully staffed. Apparently the incident of a few years back is still a bit of a sore point for them."

Hermione's eyes widened and her jaw dropped "Are you serious?" she asked, incredulously.

Harry laughed and nodded, "Totally. Come on think about it, we destroyed their entire time-turner collection, along with nearly every prophecy ever made. Not to mention that we destroyed their credibility right along side – it's the one place in the ministry that no one knows how to get in or out of, except those who work there. Yet a bunch of teenagers, with us two at the head, managed to break in and cause chaos, then get out again, in less than five hours."

Hermione laughed, "Well, when you put it like that, no wonder they don't want me. I suppose I should make a start with the ones that do though," she sighed.

"I lit a fire in the Drawing Room, Master Harry, and I've laid out some Firewhiskey for you both. I thought you might be more comfortable up there." Kreacher spoke up.

Harry stretched himself out of his chair, "Thanks Kreacher, that sounds great. Joining me?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Of course" she responded, rising herself, and hauling up the stack of papers. She followed Harry up the stairs, "I don't suppose he had any news about my parents?" she asked, quietly, as they entered the drawing room.

"No, not as of yet," Harry said, then smiled encouragingly, "But it's early days yet: He's got a good team together, they've been briefed well. He's going out to join them tomorrow morning. No doubt they'll find them within the week. Firewhiskey?" he asked, walking over to the tray and pouring himself a drink.

Hermione smiled back, and nodded. "Thanks,"

Harry poured a second glass, when handing it to Hermione he noticed the concern still etched across her forehead. "I'm serious, finding them is the easy part, it's approaching them that's going to be complicated. Don't fret, all will be well."

Hermione smiled, "I know," she said then sat her self on one of the couches, laying the tower of files next to her, and opening the top one, "Time to read" she grinned.

Harry sat down on the couch facing her and summoned a large portfolio from the writing desk, "Me too," he sighed, opening the large volume that was the Auror Handbook.

######

The next morning Hermione rose early, long before Harry; she left him a note after breakfast, letting him know she would join him for dinner, before apperating to the home she once thought she would never return to.

She appeared outside a wide pair of iron sweeping double gates, taking her wand from her pocket she undid the concealment, and secrecy charms she had placed on the grounds a year ago, she then removed a set of keys from her bag, unlocked the padlock and entered the grounds. She walked up a long gravel drive, which took her a little under five minutes, and stopped in front of the large, three-storey Georgian mansion (four, if you counted the sunken, lower floor that now housed the extravagant kitchen, and extensive wine cellar - the tops of the windows of this floor could just be seen from the driveway.)

Hermione ascended the stone stairway up to the large double doors, unlocked them using the keys she still had in her hand and swung them wide open, entering the extravagant entrance hall.

Hermione took a deep breath: "I suppose I ought to start somewhere" She sighed, and raising her wand she began murmuring a selection of spells removing the layer of dust from the floors, the tables and the lights. She then turned and opened up the shutters on the windows either side of the doors, flooding the hall with light. She then turned to the door on the left hand side of the entrance hall, and proceeding through, entered into a room of darkness. She repeated the spells, focusing first on the large heavy curtains draped over the many windows. Once they were dust free, and relatively fresh, she drew them open and opened the shutters, flooding the room with light, and revealing a cavernous study. Continuing with her charms, she had the study back in shape within half an hour, she then proceeding through a set of double doors into the large Library, which stretched the remaining length of the house, repeating the procedures practiced in the previous rooms. The library, being considerably larger than the study, took her a little over an hour, after which she reluctantly proceeded through the door at the opposite end of the room to which she entered, resisting the urge to curl up on one of the couches and read. She emerged once again in the large entrance hall, behind the grand staircase, facing another door, to her right, directly underneath the grand staircase were a set of stairs leading down to the kitchen and cellars – those she would tackle next she resolved.

As she crossed the hallway, she opened four more sets of shutters, revealing more large windows looking out over the extensive landscaped gardens, considerably lower at the back of the house, compared to the front. The rooms on the other side of the hall consisted of a moderate sized reception room, sympathetically decorated to match the period of the house, and a large multimedia room – the most twenty-first century room in the whole house, which happened to be one of her father's most prised rooms. By mid-day Hermione had the ground floor completely clean, and fit for re-habitation, she turned her attention to the kitchen.

Descending the spiral staircase, she entered the most renovated part of the house: all along the back wall were full length windows, and a couple of French doors leading out onto a large decked area, overlooking the landscaped gardens. Her parents had dug out the land behind the house, bringing the ground level considerably lower to allow more natural light to enter the kitchens. The Kitchen itself took up about half the width of the house: plenty of counter top space, a large oven that wouldn't be out of place in a busy restaurant kitchen, complete with an eight ring stove top and two oven spaces. A vast island in the middle of the floor doubled as a breakfast bar. The rest of the room expanded the rest of the width of the house and included an informal dining space and a couple of couches placed around a large coffee table: the perfect family room, inspired by the typical Australian layout her parents had come to adore. On the left hand side of the Kitchen were two doors, one lead to a large pantry, which took Hermione all of two minutes to clean with her wand, though she did frown when she realised she would need to re-stock the entire kitchen before her parents returned.

"That is going to a full day in itself," she muttered. Then, deciding to worry about that at a later date, she turned to the other door underneath the stairs, and proceeded down a short flight of stairs into the wine cellar. This happened to be the joint favourite room of her father and herself, which was the same size as the family room she had just quit, and ran the full width of the front of the house. A minimal amount of light entered the room from the windows that were just visible from the driveway. The walls of the first half of the room that Hermione came into from the stairs were stacked with wine racks, filled with a decent amount of bottles, expertly ordered: two of the walls were filled with wines; reds, whites and rosés had their own sections, and the whites and rosés were further split into still and sparkling. A fourth section, slightly smaller was reserved for champagne. The third wall was split into two sections; the first housed a collection of spirits, ranging from the finest Russian and Polish vodkas to an array of Scotch and Irish whiskeys of various ages. The second was Hermione's own personal addition to the family's wine cellar, and consisted of alcoholic beverages courtesy of the magical world, including Firewhiskey, Butterbeer, and of course, Madame Rosmerta's finest Oak Matured Mead as well as a fine selection of elf-made wine.

In the centre of these shelves stood a long scrubbed wooded table and a couple of benches, where Hermione had often spent time with her father as she was growing up, transferring various liquids into the correct decanters to be taken upstairs into various rooms. Further into the room was the more modern area, with a full-length bar, complete with bar stools, behind which all the open bottles were kept, and a large fridge housed a variety of chilled beers, largers and ciders. In front of the bar was a cosy sitting area, where Hermione and her father, had often sat, the last summer she had spent here. Another hour had the cellar completely clean, and using a clever combination of charms she had looked up, she managed to control the atmosphere around the wine-shelves to keep to the perfect temperature, suitable for each wine there: the whites would always be chilled, and the reds would be at optimum room temperature. Feeling rather pleased with her ingenuity, she made her way back up through the kitchen, into the entrance hall, and proceeding to make a start on the staircase and the first floor.

By Five O'clock, Hermione had managed to get half the first floor up to standard: She had gone over the two drawing rooms, the Billiards room and the Family Dining Room. She resolved to leave the large, formal dining room and the ballroom until tomorrow. Returning down into the entrance hall, she closed the doors, locked them from the inside, and disapparated back to Grimmauld Place.

Arriving in the kitchen, she was greeted by Kreacher, who immediately told her that Harry was in the Library with Ron, who had arrived this morning. Hermione bounded up stairs, having not seen Ron since his return to the Burrow, she met the pair on the landing, as they emerged, both looking rather tired, and red eyed.

"Hey Hermione," Harry greeted with a smile, "When did you get back?"

"Just now," she said, and then turned to Ron, "Kreacher told me you were here," she gave him a hug, "How've you been?"

Ron returned the hug, "Pretty good. Harry and me have been studying the Auror's Handbook. Bloody hell, Hermione, I miss not having you doing the same thing we are, all this reading is hurting my brain."

Hermione laughed, as the trio began to descend back to the kitchen, "I'm sure you can handle it just fine, Ron, if you apply yourself."

"I know, but it's so thick. I was never good at reading long books, not much of a reader at all to be honest, and we have to get through it in a week!" Ron complained, Harry shook his head, while Hermione asked:

"Have you two been given a start date then?"

Harry nodded, "Yep, a week on Monday."

"Kingsley wanted us earlier," Ron added, "But I asked to wait until after Fred's funeral." He explained.

"When is it?" Hermione asked, quietly, as the entered the kitchen and sat themselves at the table.

"Next Friday," Ron answered, "At the Burrow, there's going to be a bit of a service at 11. We're going to bury him in the orchard, you know where we used to play Quidditch in the summer?"

Harry and Hermione nodded as Ron continued, "After, we thought we would hold a bit of a memorial for everyone else who died that night, you know, Remus and Dora, Colin, everyone we knew."

###

Hermione spent the weekend finishing up with the cleaning: Friday she spent all morning, on the remainder of the first floor, and made a start on the guest bedrooms. Saturday she spent most of the morning completing the guest bedrooms and getting the bathrooms back into order, she then spent the rest of the day on her parents' rooms.

Sunday she devoted to her own rooms which was set out like her parents' though on a slightly smaller scale.

She first entered a modest sitting room, to the right was a working fire, in front of which was a plush rug. On the rug sat a small oak coffee table, surrounded by a small couch and a couple of comfortable reading chairs. The colour scheme to this room was as close to Gryffindor as her rooms would get - having redecorated this area the summer after her first year at Hogwarts, she had compromised with her mother, and instead of using bright reds and yellows, she had settled for a compliment of earthy browns and reds.

Directly opposite the doorway was a set of double doors leading out onto a balcony, which stretched the entire length of Hermione's suite. To the left of these doors was a small study area, complete with a set of bookshelves, which stretched the width of the room. The bookshelves were interrupted in the middle with a set of double doors, which led into Hermione's bedroom.

Hermione's room consisted of a queen sized four-poster bed, with a matching pair of bedside tables on either side. A chaise-long sat in front of anther set of double doors leading out onto the same balcony that continued from the sitting room. A small book table was placed next to the chaise-long, and a large dressing table stood against the left hand wall, directly opposite to the windows. On the back wall, were two doors, on either side of the bed: the left led into a luxurious en-suite, consisting of a rather extravagant roll-top bath, a double shower, and a large sink and vanity unit. To the right of the bed, was an extensive walk in wardrobe and dressing room – the kind of closet every girl would kill for - which housed an array of clothing, muggle and wizard robes alike, and not to mention a killer shoe collection. Hermione had never considered herself a girly girl, but her parents had many functions and many parties, all of which Hermione would attend should they fall in the summer, and she would always have to appear properly dressed. She therefore had a vast selection of cocktail dresses and evening gowns, all with the perfect matching shoes, she also had a good selection skirts and suits, as her role in her parents' business had started to increase before their abrupt departure last year.

The colour scheme to Hermione's room was not what her Hogwarts friends would have expected: The furniture was all teak, the carpets plush and cream, but the hangings on the four poster, the drapes at the window, the chaise-long and the rugs we're all emerald green: she had fallen in love with The Wizard of Oz at the age of six, and since then she had wanted her room to be her very own Emerald City. The bedding, and cushions scattered around the rooms were all in sympathetic shades of greens, silvers and greys. When once it may have been 'Wizard of Oz' she couldn't fail to notice, after enrolling at Hogwarts, how very Slytherin her room was – but Emerald green had always been her favourite colour, The Wizard of Oz her favourite film, and that wasn't going to change that anytime soon.

By four O'clock, Hermione was exhausted, but pleased with herself, the house was back to the state it had been when her parents had left, and perfectly ready for their return. The only things left for her to do was re-stock on groceries and turn back on all the electrics and water. Deciding to wait until her parents' return date was specifically known, she turned her attention to the family business, and from Monday right through to Thursday, she was holed up in Parents' office from 9 to 5, sifting through a mountain of paperwork, organising a mass of emails and making what felt like a million never-ending phone calls.

By Thursday evening she was fairly confident she had everything in order for her parents return, she returned to Grimmauld Place, exhausted, yet happy with her weeks work. When she entered the kitchen both Harry and Ron were already sat down tucking into their dinner. Hermione grabbed herself a bowl and ladled out some stew still sitting on the stove.

"Sorry we didn't wait" Harry said as Hermione sat down, "But you know what Ron gets like when he's Hungry," he added with a grin.

"Hey!" Ron protested, with a mouth full of bread, as Hermione laughed.

"It's fine. I was later than I planned, I was looking through my wardrobe for something to wear tomorrow." Hermione explained. "What time would you like us there?" She asked Ron, who shrugged.

"Well, I think people are going to start arriving about half-past ten. But you guys are pretty much part of the family, you guys can come over at breakfast, if you wanted."

"Where are you sleeping tonight?" Harry asked,

"I'll stay at the Burrow tonight, I think. I might even stay there tomorrow night as well." Ron said. "But if you're still up for me living here, I'll move in at the weekend."

Hermione beamed, "About time, we've missed you constantly hanging around." She admitted.

"I could say the same about you," Ron joked, "I've been here most of the week, studying for Monday, with Harry. Where the hall have you been?"

Hermione laughed, "My parents' place. I've cleaned the house from top to bottom, and spent this week going over the business accounts and readying everything for their return. I thought Harry told you that?"

"He did, but good god Hermione, how big is your bloody house if it takes a week to clean!"

Hermione blushed, she had never told her friends about her affluent lifestyle outside of Hogwarts, "I spent more time taking care of business than cleaning" she told them truthfully, while cleverly evading Ron's question. "But it's sorted now, I don't need to go back until Kingsley tells me when my parents will be returning. And even then I'll be there a day at the most probably."

"By the way," Harry spoke up at this point, "You had an owl today, it arrived while I was having breakfast." He summoned it to the table as he spoke, "Looks like it's from Hogwarts." He commented as the letter landed next to Hermione's plate.

"Thanks," she said, taking the letter to open and read.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_Due to the disruption of last years teachings, and the Failure to sit NEWT exams, all students belonging to your year have been given the opportunity to return to Hogwarts to retake your seventh year in full. Alternatively, if you attended your seventh year, and feel confident in your achievement level, you can opt for Summer School, which will run from August 1st through to August 31st and will involve an intensive recap of material needed to pass the NEWT exams. Should you opt for Summer school, exams will take place in the Final weeks of August, and results will be Owled to you the final week in September._

_If you decide to return to fully repeat the year, you will be eligible for the position of Head Girl. Alternatively, you may take the option of not returning to Hogwarts, should you have another option in mind. If this happens to be the case, all of us here at Hogwarts wish you the best of luck._

_Please inform us of your final decision no later than June 30th_

_Thank you,_

_Headmistress Minerva McGonagall_

"It's the letter about potentially returning in September." She commented as she finished reading, "Did you two not get one?" she asked, looking up.

Both boys shook their heads, and Harry elaborated, "I guess, since we both told McGonagall back at Hogwarts we wouldn't be returning, there was no need for the clarification. You were still undecided at that meeting, right?"

Hermione nodded, "Still undecided now, if I'm honest." She checked the letter again, "I have until June 30th to decide." She stated, "I was hoping to defer this decision until after the return of my parents."

"June 30th is still a couple of weeks away," Harry reassured her, "don't worry about it, Kingsley will find them before then."

####

The next morning Hermione was awake, dressed and down in the kitchen at least a half hour before Harry even left his bed. He finally entered the kitchen a little after 9am, wearing a pair of black tailored pants and a white shirt with the top couple of buttons left open. Draped over one arm he had a black suit jacket and his plain black cloak, he stifle a yawn as he sat opposite Hermione,

"Morning." He greeted, drowsily.

Hermione smiled "Good morning, you look nice." She commented.

"Thanks, so do you." He responded automatically, Hermione laughed.

"Thanks," she said, "Even though you haven't even looked at me, for all you know I could still be in my pyjamas and dressings gown."

Harry looked up apologetically, "Sorry, I'm running on auto-pilot. I need coffee." He mumbled.

"What time do you reckon we should leave?" Hermione asked as she summoned him some coffee.

Harry shrugged, "Give it another half hour, then we should be too much in the way."

True to his word, exactly half an hour later the pair stood and Hermione walked around the table to join Harry.

"You do look very nice, by the way." He commented as he held out his hand, as he finally took in what she was wearing – a modest, sleeveless figure hugging dress in dark grey, that fell to just above her knees, couple with a pair of sensible black heels. It was an outfit she had worn to some business meetings her parents had forced her to attend the summer before they left. She threw her own black cloak over her shoulders, and then took Harry's offered hand.

The pair disapparated and reappeared outside the Burrow a moment later. When they entered the kitchen, it was to find a deep silence over all the Weasleys: the table was heavily laden with a variety of breakfast goods, but no one seemed to be eating. Harry and Hermione entered in silence, and took a couple of empty seats around the large wooden table.

No one spoke, and Harry and Hermione looked at each other in discomfort – neither of them could remember ever being this quiet for such a long period of time. After a few more minutes, Hermione noticed Ginny look down at the table, covering her mouth with her hand, her body shook slightly, as if she were trying to hold back sobs, she then raised herself from the table, and hastily departed out of the kitchen, heading back into the sitting room. Hermione frowned and followed silently.

"Ginny?" she spoke softly, as she entered the sitting room, "Are you alright?" she asked, then stopped short, when Ginny looked up at her. She had not been trying to hide sobs, as Hermione had assumed, but rather she had run to hid a hysterical fit of giggles that seemed to have overtaken her.

"I am so sorry," Ginny spoke while laughing, "But it's just too quiet in there, I couldn't control myself."

Hermione sat down, "Are you sure you're alright?" she asked again, Ginny nodded.

"Yes, I'm fine." She took a breath, and calmed her giggles, "I don't know what came over me, but you know I hate silence. I've never known my family to be so quiet. I mean, we were all still in shock when we first came back here after Hogwarts, but after a few days, everyone started to get more like their normal selves again. But today, it's like we've all regressed back the day he died." Ginny explained, "And this isn't what Fred would have wanted either. He would have wanted us laughing, joking, celebrating all the things George and he did."

"Like turning a corridor into a swamp?" Hermione remembered fondly, with a laugh.

"Exactly!" Ginny laughed again.

"The tried to send me a toilet seat in my first year, when I was in the hospital wing." Harry commented from the doorway, the girls turned in unison, not knowing he had followed them.

"What the hell?" asked Ginny, "Why?"

Harry shrugged, "No idea, maybe they thought sweets were over-rated, and nothing said 'congratulations on thwarting Voldemort' quite like a Hogwarts toilet seat." He said taking a seat. Hermione and Ginny laughed again, and the three lapsed into thoughtful silence for five minutes.

"Speaking of Hogwarts," Ginny spoke up then, "I got a letter yesterday, asking if I wanted to repeat my sixth year, or go strait into my seventh. Ron didn't get a letter inviting him back, did either of you?" She asked.

"Ron and I didn't because we already told McGonagall we wouldn't be returning. She was there when we accepted our posts at the Ministry." Harry explained, "But Hermione got one."

Ginny turned to Hermione to see her nod in confirmation, "What are you going to do?" she asked Hermione, who shrugged.

"I'm not sure yet. There are a lot of trainee programmes at the ministry that are willing to accept me, all starting mid October. They still want a couple of NEWT qualifications relevant to the field, depending on the department, but they're willing to let me study throughout the first year of internship, and take the exams next year."

"So if you took a place at the ministry, you'd only need to take two or three NEWTs, instead of the seven or eight you'd be doing if you returned to Hogwarts?" Ginny clarified.

Hermione nodded, "But, on the other hand, part of me would like to finish my education. But my main focus right now is finding my parents. If they're not found in the next couple of weeks, I'll take a trainee programme for definite I think. I'll be able to help more with the search if I'm down in London, as opposed to holed up in a castle in Scotland."

"And if you find them before then?" Ginny asked.

Hermione sighed. "I don't know. That will depend on my parents, I fear."

Both Harry and Ginny frowned at this, unsure what the meaning was behind it, but were prevented from answering when Ron came to the doorway,

"We're heading down to the orchard now." He said, "People will be arriving soon."

Ginny stood first and went to her brother's side, Ron put his arm around her and the pair left the room, with Harry and Hermione following close behind. Harry took Hermione's hand silently as they walked down to the orchard, she gave his a gentle squeeze in silent reassurance: both would be each other's shoulder to cry on should they need one. Ron and Ginny slowed their pace and came to walk beside Hermione and Harry, Ron taking Hermione's other hand. The four of them made the rest of way joined together and Hermione smiled, thinking of everything they had been through the past couple of years, the disastrous romances they had all experienced and the fighting they had endured – even after all that, they were still four of greatest friends, with a bond nothing was ever going to break.

* * *

_**A/N: So there's chapter two - I know not much happens, still in the stages of setting the scene for the rest of the story. The next few chapters will start involving more of Draco Malfoy, I know he seems a little bit forgotten in this chapter, but don't worry, he'll get his share of the limelight soon :D**_

_**I'll try an update as soon as I can, until then, please review - I love to hear what you guys think, good or bad...I thrive on constructive criticism :)**_

_**xBx**_


	3. Chapter 3: The Grangers Return

**_A/N: So here is another update, again far more earlier than even I could have dreamed, but for some reason the words just keep on coming to me (Only the Gods know when Harmony will start flowing for me again, but until then I'm keeping up with the Dramione current) - unfortunately the words for a title decided to evade me for this one, so please forgive than unimaginative, though direct, name for Chapter 3...three guesses what the main even in this chapter is going to be... lol_**

**_And now, enjoy :D_**

**_xBx_**

**_update: 30/08/12 - I've reposted all three chapters, changing a tiny detail concerning Harry's employment: For everyone who read the first draft, Harry was given the same job entry level as Ron - This change is thanks to a review from DawnRain (who I want to give a huge thank you to), a review which really cemented my doubts I was starting to get of my decision to put Harry as Head Auror right away._**

**_Nothing else has really changed, I've corrected a few other minor mistakes. The next update will bring Chapter 4, and hopefully it won't be too long in coming - sorry for the delay_**

**_xBx_**

* * *

**~ Chapter 3**: **The Granger's return ~**

Fred's ceremony lasted a little over an hour, after which the Weasleys and their guests returned inside and drank to the memories of the fallen. As the drink flowed, and food was eaten, spirits began to lift ever so slightly, and by the end of the night everyone was riotous with remembrance, laughing at all the trouble Fred had caused when he was alive.

True to his word, Ron moved into Grimmauld Place on the weekend, and the trio spent Sunday night back at the Burrow, where Molly had laid on an excellent feast in celebration and lamentation of her youngest son flying the next.

Hermione entered the basement kitchen on Monday morning, still snuggled in her dressing gown, just in time to see Ron and Harry off on their first day of work: both looked excited, yet slightly nervous.

"Good luck, both of you." She hugged them both as they began to make their way out, "It's going to be strange having the place to myself." She commented.

"At least you'll have some peace and quiet, you can get through the rest of those Trainee Programme files." Harry said. "See you at dinner." He called over his shoulder.

Hermione spent her day doing just that, by the time the boys returned she had thoroughly read every file twice, and had a good idea of what the Ministry had to offer – now she only had to make her choice.

Hermione had made her way down to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea when she heard the clanking of the front door announcing Harry and Ron's arrival home.

"Something smells great, Kreacher," Ron said as her entered the kitchen, "What's cooking tonight?"

"Thank you, Mr Weasley," Kreacher said as he scuttled over to take Ron and Harry's cloaks, "It's only a beef stew, we're running low in the pantry, Master Harry."

"Right," Harry said slowly, he glanced at Hermione, who shook her head and laughed,

"Don't worry about it, I'll go shopping tomorrow for you; we'll be fully stocked by the afternoon."

"Thanks 'Mione" Harry said gratefully as he sat down at the table, closely followed by Ron, who summoned three bottles of butterbeer as he went.

"So, how was your first day, boys?" Hermione asked, puting down the Daily Prophet she had been reading.

"Good," Harry nodded, "Though its mostly paperwork at the minute: we need to give a full written report of the happenings of the final battle at Hogwarts, and we need to compile a report on our escapades of the past year." Harry told her,

"When you say 'we', you mean Ron and Yourself?" Hermione clarified, Harry grinned,

"Sorry, you can't get out of this. You were just as much a part of it as we were, you need to submit to me a full report by the end of the July, so that I can hand it in with mine – Kingsley wants everyone's input."

"Seriously? But I'm not an Auror!" Hermione complained.

"No, not officially," Harry agreed, trying to placate her, "but you practically were all of last year, we all were. What we did was pretty much a covert operation, in their eyes. The ministry needs to know what we knew, what we did, they need to piece together how we destroyed him."

"They need to know where they failed, and how three teenagers could do their job better than them." Hermione countered, getting a little frustrated at the extra paperwork she now had to worry about.

Ron laughed out loud at Hermione's bluntness. "Yeah, pretty much."

Harry continued to placate Hermione: "At least you only have the past twelve months to write about, I'm going to have to write up my meetings with Dumbledore, at least the basic surmise of them, all the information he gathered about Voldemort and his horcruxes, otherwise our accounts won't make sense." He explained.

Ron jumped in, adding, "And we have to report on the order: Kingsley will be adding his own report, but we were around just as much as him, and he's asked us to write down anything we know about their efforts, I'm going to have to get a full account from Bill, at least you get out of that one. I tell you, I never thought there would be this much writing to it."

Hermione smiled at the pair of them. "Don't worry," She consoled them, "The Auror office has been mayhem the past few months, once it's back on track, you'll be able to do the fun stuff too, I'm sure. But remember, this was your first day, you're the newbies, you have to start at the bottom and work your way up."

Harry shrugged, and nodded in acknowledgement of her sense, "You're right, I mean we did get told that we'd be able to go and bring in the Death Eaters we're still looking for, as soon as we get a lead. And the trials will be starting soon, that's going to be something different: we're going to be pretty involved for new recruits, I mean their not treating us like newbies, at least we're being credited for our experience. We didn't get it so bad."

Ron laughed, "I guess not. You certainly hit the jackpot at any rate." Ron added with a grin.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Give it a rest, it's not going to happen for a long while yet." He mumbled, trying to look modest.

Hermione's eyes narrowed inquisitively, "What's going on?" she asked slowly looking from one to the other.

"Are you going to tell her, or shall I?" Grinned Ron.

"Tell me what?" pestered Hermione.

Harry seemed to struggle for the right words, so Ron went right ahead: "Harry's already gone at got himself a promotion." He said, grinning, not a hint of bitterness in his voice, genuinely happy for his best friend.

"What?!" Hermione gasped, the grin on her face widening. "How?"

Harry blushed slightly, "It's not really a promotion, not yet anyway. But I had a meeting with Kingsley and Trent this afternoon – Trent was Kingsley's deputy, so he'll be stepping up to fill Kingley's shoes now that he's minister. But Trent is wanting to retire – he's not exactly young, and he never wanted to be head Auror, but he doesn't mind doing it for now, until the department gets back on track. After that, they want to train me to take over."

Hermione gaped, "Are you serious?"

Harry nodded, "Of course this is going to be ages away, I mean we have so much to do getting the office back on track; and with the trials coming up, there's no way they can train me for the position properly until after that, and I'll need to be given a few leadership roles out in the field to prove I can command the other Aurors and lead with authority. On top of that I'll need to get my NEWT's, and sit the aptitude tests. It's going to be two years, at least, before all that is done. But, at some point down the line I'll be heading the department."

"Harry, that's fantastic!" Hermione beamed, "Congratulations."

Kreacher started setting the table for dinner, around them, and Harry finally remembered what he was supposed to say when he first arrived: "Oh, Kreacher, I forgot to say when I came in, Kingsley Shacklebolt will be joining us for dinner if that's alright?"

"Of course, Master Harry. There's plenty of dinner to go round. If the Minister is joining us, would it not be better to eat in the Dining Room? Kreacher can have it ready in an instant."

Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged his shoulders, "Couldn't hurt, he is the Minister after all."

Harry turned back to Kreacher, "If it's not too much trouble Kreacher. Sorry about the short notice."

"Not at all, Master Harry. I'll go light a fire." The elf vacated the kitchen.

"How come Kingsley is joining us?" Hermione asked. Harry and Ron looked at each other, then back at Hermione,

"He arrived back in England this afternoon, he came strait to the Ministry to meet with me," Harry explained, "Discussing my potential for promotion wasn't his only reason for seeing me, he wants to speak to you. I'll let him tell you, he knows more than me, he'll explain it better." Hermione let it drop, she figured this would have something to do with her parents – though whether it was good news, or bad, she couldn't gather from Harry's tone.

Fifteen minutes later Kingsley had arrived, and the four of them had gathered in the first floor drawing room, across the hall from the dining room.

"So, Kingsley, Harry says you need to talk to me. I take it this has something to do with my parents?" Hermione asked him, once he had been handed a drink.

Kingsley nodded, "Yes. They are alive, and they are safe. They haven't had anyone from the magical world contact them in the past year as far as we're aware-"

"You've spoken to them?" Hermione cut him off and Kingsley smiled.

"No, not yet. We've been watching them for a few days. I haven't wanted to approach them until I came to talk to you. We need to discuss the next step."

"Restoring their memories?" Hermione clarified.

"Yes, in particular, where and when this restoration should take place. It's going to be very confusing for them, would you like to be there when it happens? Do you want us to bring them back here first, before we undo the memory charms?"

Hermione was thoughtful for a few moments, she then began voicing her thoughts, "I don't know, on the one hand, trying to get them here without a thorough explanation of why they need to return – I don't think they would go for that, and using magic on them to get them here, without restoring their memories and knowledge could really freak them out. But restoring their memories over there, they would panic, wondering how they got there. And I'm sure there will be holes in there memory as well. It would probably be better for their state of mind, if their memories were restored back in the house they've lived in all their married life." Hermione became thoughtful again, so Kingsley spoke up,

"If could make a suggestion? " Kingsley asked, Hermione nodded her assent, allowing him to continue, "I think it would be advisable to restore their memory here in England, in their home. It is likely that some of the memories will be very difficult to restore – not impossible, and they will remember in time. But for a while, it's likely that they won't be able to recollect the weeks leading up to memory modification. And everything that has happened this year will be rather shady as well, if they recollect any of that at all."

Hermione nodded, "Sleeping draughts?" she suggested suddenly, and then expanded, "Would it be possible to give them sleeping draughts, covertly. Put them to sleep for a few hours, and get them back here without them knowing? Could we modify memories while they're asleep?"

"Minor memory modifications are fine in an induced sleep. But something this major, it would be safer to do it while they're awake and conscious – we don't want dreams to mix with reality. But using the sleeping draughts to ease the travel, we can do that – I was going to make that suggestion myself, but I thought it sounded a lot like kidnapping coming from me"

Hermione laughed, "Well, if we're honest, that is pretty much what we're doing. But it's a means to an end, I guess. They're still going to freak out when they wake up in the house I made them forget."

"Yes, which is why we will need to work on them quickly. Time will be important, before I return to Australia, I need to know exactly what you did, what combination of charms you used, and potions you may have used, so we can figure out exactly what we need to do before we get them here."

"Ok, I'll get some parchment, start making some notes." Hermione stood and made her way to the writing desk, Harry and Ron stood up,

"We'll leave you in peace to discuss it." Harry said, "Ron and I can make a start on our reports, we'll be up in the library. Let us know when you're ready for dinner, and we'll join you in the Dining Room."

Hermione smiled and nodded, then sat herself at the desk.

###

Draco Malfoy sat in his Library in front of a roaring fire sipping on a glass of Firewhiskey, staring into the flames. The library had always been his favourite room, maybe that was because he was the only one who ever really used it. His mother would come in there occasionally, and when he had been very young she would sit and read with him, curled up on one of the couches. But his father never used it – any books he may have needed he kept in his study. In the Library, Draco had always felt he could escape from his father and the company he kept, in which Draco had never felt truly comfortable. Now he was escaping the rest of house, which felt so empty now that his parents were no longer there: empty, dark and cold.

Draco had spent the evening trawling through a pile of books he had found on wizarding law, trying to find anything that could help his parents in their upcoming trials – his mother's was to be at the end of the week. Though, if he was truly honest with himself, he thought his parents may have been a bit of a lost cause – his father definitely, there was no way he could deny his involvement with the Death Eaters, all the wizarding world knew he was a fanatic for the cause since day one – the fact that he began to have doubts for the final two years of Voldemort's reign of terror weren't likely to be taken to heart by the Wizengamot.

His mother, however, there was a little hope for her, Draco believed. She was, after all, following where her sister and Husband led her. For a fleeting moment Draco wondered how different his life would have been if his mother had become more fond of her other sister, instead of Aunt Bella, he laughed to himself at the thought, and quickly dismissed it.

Draco was interrupted from his staring into the flames by the library door opening, and his house-elf, Tinker, entered announcing: "Master Malfoy, Mister Zabini is here to see you."

Draco glanced round, without leaving his seat, "Thanks, Tinker, send him in."

Tinker disappeared and a second later Blaise entered the room.

"Have a seat, help yourself to some Firewhiskey," Draco offered as he entered, still not raising from his seat: Draco and Blaise had been in and out of each others' houses constantly while they had been growing up, each was like a second home to the other.

Blaise took a seat next to Draco, and took up staring into the flames, after a couple of minutes he commented dryly: "Seeing anything interesting in the flames? Is this a form of fortune telling you've decided to take up?"

Draco gave a low chuckle, "Not really, I've been reading all afternoon, and now I'm bored so I'm contemplating."

"The meaning of life?" Blaise joked

"The meaning of _my_life" Draco answered, seriously.

Blaise let out a long whistle, "Geez, someone's feeling deep tonight."

In response, Draco pulled out a piece of crumpled parchment from his pocket and handed it to Blaise to read:

_Dear Mr Malfoy,_

_Due to the disruption of last years teachings, and the Failure to sit NEWT exams, all students belonging to your year have been given the opportunity to return to Hogwarts to retake your seventh year in full. Alternatively, if you attended your seventh year, and feel confident in your achievement level, you can opt for Summer School, which will run from August 1st through to August 31st and will involve an intensive recap of material needed to pass the NEWT exams. Should you opt for Summer school, exams will take place in the Final weeks of August, and results will be Owled to you the final week in September._

_If you decide to return to fully repeat the year, you will be eligible for the position of Head Boy. Alternatively, you may take the option of not returning to Hogwarts, should you have another option in mind. If this happens to be the case, all of us here at Hogwarts wish you the best of luck._

_Please inform us of your final decision no later than June 30th_

_Thank you,_

_Headmistress Minerva McGonagall_

"Yeah, I got one the other day as well," Blaise commented after reading the letter and handing it back. "You made your decision yet?"

"I'm going to return I think, for the full year." Draco answered, without taking his eyes from the fire.

"Seriously?" Blaise asked, turning to look at Draco, "But you were there for the year, you got your studying done. Why not take the summer school option, get your NEWTs then you're free to get out into the real world."

Draco turned and faced Blaise with a patient look on his face, "My NEWTs are all well and good, but I think the wizarding world is going to need longer than a summer to forget my name and what it's known for."

Blaise nodded, "I guess you have a point there. But do you think a year will make much difference?"

Draco shrugged, "I don't know, but I need to prove to people that I'm not like my father. I figure if I keep my head down, work hard, get good grades, the ministry will have to at least consider me for a position."

The pair sat in silence for a few moments, the Draco spoke again, "Have you answered yours yet?" He asked.

Blaise shook his head, "Not yet. I was waiting to see what you were going to do. If I'm honest, going back for a full year doesn't seem like a bad idea – and doing it all again doesn't really faze me. Last year wasn't exactly great academically speaking – I mean lets be honest, those cronies of Voldemort's that took some of the teaching posts weren't exactly the brainiest people in the world."

Draco snorted, "First years could have taken those classes better than some of that lot," he agreed. "But still, the core subjects were taken by the competent teachers at least."

"True," conceded Blaise, "but, I'll be honest, I'm also tempted by the eligibility of being elected head boy – not that I'll be in with a chance mind you, that'll belong to Saint Potter, saviour of the wizarding world." Blaise joked with only the tiniest hint of bitterness.

Draco shook his head, "Not likely, he's joined the ranks of the Ministry, and so has Weasley."

"You're kidding?!"

"Nope, they're both pretty much fully fledged Aurors now. I hear Potter is even being groomed to take over as Head Auror; he'll be observing all the trials of the Death eaters they've rounded up so far. Weasley will be there at my parents' trial also, but I don't think he's required to sit through all of them, not like Potter."

"Jesus," Blaise whistled, "Bloody jammy gits, the pair of them. No doubt it's to make up for all the crap the Ministry dealt him the past few years. Not to mention the name 'Harry Potter' probably has something to do with the super-quick promotion."

Again Draco shook his head, "I don't know," he said slowly and evenly, "Shacklebolt is the one that appointed him, and he's not one for just giving things away, or holding things back, just over a name. I don't know much about him, but I know he's bloody fair – I'm very glad he's Minister, and presiding over these trials, at least I know my parents will get a fair hear-out. And, if even half the rumours are true about what Potter, Granger and Weasley got up to when they disappeared last year, it's likely he's earned his position, Weasley too."

Blaise raised an eyebrow, "Well, you've certainly changed your tune. Jumping on the Potter bandwagon already, are we?"

"No" Draco scowled, "I still don't particularly like the guy, but I'm not blind to his achievements either. I have simply come to be able to use my own mind and am no longer fully governed by my father's views and beliefs." He answered dryly, "You might consider doing the same."

Blaise laughed, "I guess you're right. You know I never thought Potter was all that bad, to be honest. I just got caught up in the Slytherin rivalry. And Weasley was pretty funny actually – never spoke to him, but I've caught a couple of his one-liners as I've passed him in the corridors over the years. And his little sister is one hot piece of ass." Blaise added as an after thought.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Are you kidding me Blaise? You've been here less than an hour and you've already steered the conversation to a sexual course, are you addicted or something? Believe it or not, there are other things going on slightly more important than the satisfaction of one's libido."

"If you think so, Drake, then you're clearly doing it wrong. Or with the wrong people." Blaise smirked, "But come on, you have to admit, that feisty red-head is hot! Especially when she's playing Quidditch, she gets real aggressive, puts up one hell of a fight, I like that, such a turn on." Blaise mused.

"Are you finished?" Draco asked, "Got it out of your system? Is that why you're really wanting to return? Hoping to do your part for the 'House Unity' crap that they'll be shoving down our throats this year, by trying to get it on with the Weaselette?"

Blaise continued, as if Draco hadn't spoken, though he did give him a glare out of the corner of his eye. "Granger could also be worth a shot, not that she'd ever go for a Slytherin, mind you. But did you see her the other week, after the battle at Hogwarts? Man, I don't know what she's been doing this past year, but she was looking good, and the muggle clothes she was wearing do wonders for her figure. Or maybe she always had that sweet body but the school robes just covered her. And even though she was covered in blood, dirt and God knows what else, she looked fierce: she's one hell of a fighter I reckon, I'd like to see her all riled up. Is she returning do you know?" He asked.

Draco stared at Blaise incredulously, "How the hell should I know?"

Blaise shrugged, "You knew about Potter and Weasley" he pointed out.

"Only because I found out through discussing my parents' trial. But Granger hasn't joined the Auror force, that's all I know. I'm assuming she would have been offered a place along with the other two, but she must have turned it down for some unknown, unintelligent, reason. Unless she's joining some other Department, I'm sure there will be no shortage of offers for the final third of the Golden Trio."

"Maybe she's turned into a pacifist." Blaise joked, though sounding slightly disappointed at the thought.

"Not likely," Draco answered shortly, "Now, are you done listing the sexual merits of the females of our Hogwarts acquaintance? Only I would like to discuss the upcoming trails of our family members – I was hoping you might be able to help me, somehow."

Blaise sighed, "Yeah, I suppose we should try and help them I guess. Though gods know, my father doesn't deserve it."

"Yeah, well, I'm not convinced my father is fit to be released, either. Truthfully I think a good long stint in Azkaban might do him some good. But my mother, she needs to be here. So," Draco said, emphatically, while summoning a pile of books, which he directed to land on Blaise's lap, "with that in mind, and for the love you bare your own mother, start reading."

###

Tuesday saw Hermione back at her parents' home, she made her way directly into the cellar and found the fuse boxes and main water pipes, turning everything back on. She then made her way through every room testing the lights, noting which bulbs needed replacing, and turning the pipes back on under all the sinks, running the taps for a couple of minutes to clear out the pipes of the stagnant water. Due to the vast expanse of the house, this task took her all morning, and the afternoon she spent re-hiring the household staff that had been given leave the previous year, asking for them to start again first thing Monday morning. She then, finally, cancelled all the automated emails that would have been sent out in one month's time, alerting all of her parents' contacts of their decision to take another year out – she had set up these emails after her parents had left for Australia, sneaking back into the house a week before going to remove Harry from Privet Drive: at the time she had no idea how long their hunt for the Horcruxes would take, she had therefore set up a series of important emails to be sent out at specific dates. The first set, intending to be sent out in four weeks time, simply detailed an extended vacation for another year, possibly two. The next sets were to be sent out a year after, again informing everyone of their delayed return for another year. The final emails were to be sent out another year after that and detailed her parents' intention of signing over the practice to the Aldens: Hermione had already drawn up the paperwork, just in case something were to happen to her – she knew that if the search was going to last longer than three years, it was nigh on impossible that she would survive, or ever return to the Muggle world.

Wednesday Hermione devoted all day to grocery shopping, making sure the entire house was fully stocked of anything her parents may need; as expected it was a mammoth task and took Hermione most of the day, but by the end of it she felt she was fully ready for her parents' return tomorrow morning. That night at dinner, Hermione was unusually quiet; starting to get butterflies in her stomach she barely ate any food at all.

"You need to eat, Hermione," Harry told her, noticing her picking away at the food in front of her. "You're going to need to be firing on all pistons tomorrow."

Hermione looked up and smiled, hearing the concern in his voice, "I know," she sighed, "I just can't believe it's all happening already, I mean what if something goes wrong?"

Harry smiled, "Don't fret. Kingsley, and his Aurors, will get them back safe and sound. And you've both made a detailed plan of how to go about restoring their memories: it's foolproof. You know this, as well as Kingsley. By this time tomorrow, you will have your parents back."

Hermione smiled again, she didn't know how he did it, but damn he was good at calming her down with only his words. Ron looked up from his plate then and asked, "What time will he be bringing them?"

"Ten O'clock. We should hopefully have their memories re-modified within the hour, then I'll have the afternoon to explain. Well, at least give some little explanation, I'll save all the heavy detail for Friday, let them rest a bit, no doubt tomorrow is going to take it's toll on them."

True to his word, Kingsley and four Aurors appeared into the entrance hall at 10am on the dot, supporting Hermione's parents between them, who were both in a deep, enchantment induced sleep. Kingsley discarded the portkey they had used with a wave of his wand, and turned to Hermione.

"Where would you like this to take place? Where would be most comfortable for them when they awake?"

Hermione chewed her lip, then decided in a moment, "We'll take them through to the library; most of the rare occasions we spent time just the three of us would be in there. Follow me." She said, turning and leading them to the back of the staircase and through to the library, deciding this route would be easier to negotiate than going through the study.

"You have a beautiful home, Hermione," Kingsley commented, fully taking in his surroundings.

"Thank you." She answered politely, ignoring the hint of surprise in Kingsley tone, and turned to the four Aurors, "Place them on the couch in front of the fire, please."

When the Grangers were gently placed into resting positions, the Aurors turned to Kingsley for their next order.

"You can return to the Ministry, start the necessary paperwork if you would. Tell Harry I'll be there in an hour or so."

The Aurors disapparated leaving only Hermione and Kingsley stood with the wands drawn. Hermione had just lit a fire in the heart to take away some of the chill, she turned to Kingsley,

"Ready when you are."

"You remember the spells? The order? Everything we agreed on?" Kingsley clarified. Hermione gave a confident, sharp nod.

"I'll take your father, you work on you mother. We'll wake them, here-" he handed her a bottle. "When I say, pour it down there throats, then wait for my command to start the spell work. We have to make sure they're fully out of slumber before we can start."

Hermione nodded again, and took the vial; together they approached the sleeping couple on the couch, tilted their heads back, and looked at each other.

Kingsley nodded, "alright, pour." He said. Hermione did as was asked, and the pair stepped back in unison, waiting for the potion to take effect.

After what felt like an hour, though in reality it was only thirty seconds, the pair began to stir. As the awoke the groggily looked across at each other, then took in their surroundings in slight confusion,

"What? …What's going on?" Hermione's father asked slowly, her mother looked around, then stared at Hermione and Kinsley,

"Where are we?" she asked, confusion slowly turning to alarm, "What's happening, who are you people?"

"Now." Commanded Kingsley, and without a seconds hesitation Hermione lifted her wand and starting muttering through the list of spells Kingsley and herself had drawn up, muttering in perfect unison with Kingsley. From the moment of the first spell the grangers became calm, almost as if they had been imperio'd to be so. For half an hour the pair worked away, until finally the last spell was complete. Hermione and Kingsley stood back and waited anxiously, the room so quiet and tense Hermione was sure everyone could hear the thumping of her heart.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, the Grangers seemed to be coming back into full conscious awareness, as if coming out of a long, deep sleep.

"Mum? Dad?" Hermione asked tentatively, in barely more than a whisper.

Her parents' looked at her for a few seconds, and then her mother opened her mouth.

"Hermione?" Both Kingsley and Hermione let out a huge sigh of breath, that they had been unwittingly holding. Hermione's was accompanied with a laugh of relief,

"Yes?" Hermione asked with a grin, which further confused her parents more, and prompted her father to ask:

"Hermione, what's going on, I don't remember coming into the library, nor do I remember the arrival of this gentleman." He indicated to Kingsley, and Her mother continued her husband's enquiries,

"Yes, who is this gentlemen? Do he have something to do with this plan of yours for our going into hiding?"

Hermione smiled, well, at least they remember there was a plan, that might make explanations easier, thought Hermione, as she said: "Mother, Father, allow me to introduce Kingsley Shacklebolt, he is the newly appointed Minister for Magic. Kingsley, this is my Mother, Victoria, and my Father, Anthony."

"Pleased to formally meet you at last, Mr and Mrs Granger." Kingsley replied smoothly, before turning to Hermione, "Would like me to stay with you, help you explain?"

Hermione smiled, "It's alright, you can get back to the ministry, you have your first trial this afternoon, I believe, I wouldn't want you to be late. I can take it from here. But thank you, for everything, Kingsley," Hermione added with real feeling, "Thank you so much."

Kingsley smiled, nodded and left the room, deciding to apparate from the hallway so as not to overload the Grangers with too much magic on their first moments back.

Hermione turned back to her parents, "I have a lot to tell you, a lot explain. But first, I need you to tell me the last thing you remember." Hermione said calmly.

Her parents looked at each other in slight confusion, "What do you mean?" Her mother asked.

Hermione bit her lip, wondering how best to start, "What month are we in? What did you do yesterday?" Hermione asked.

Both her parents raised their eyebrows, clearly thinking she was slowly losing her mind, but her father answered her anyway "We're about two weeks into July. Yesterday evening we had the Aldens round for dinner, we told them we were planning a long vacation and we'd be leaving in a week." Anthony frowned,

"However, I don't remember going to bed last night, nor getting up this morning," He turned to his wife, "John and I weren't drinking to the early hours were we?" he asked.

His wife shrugged, "I don't know, I remember the dinner as well, but like you I don't remember afterwards."

The turned in unison to their daughter hoping she would explain. Hermione took a deep breath, and decided to deliver the blow in one swoop:

"That dinner was a year ago. Today is Thursday, June 26th. The plan to put you into hiding was finalised two weeks after that dinner, and was a success. But to make sure it was so successful, I had to modify your memories more than I originally told you I would. For the past year you have been living in Australia, and unaware you had a daughter, or that you were Grangers." She explained.

"Everything went according to plan," Hermione continued, trying to ignore the shocked looks her parents displayed. "I did everything I said I would with regards to the business. We brought you back today, when it was safe for us to do so, as I promised, we reversed all the charms on you. We found you again a couple of weeks ago, and since then I have been taking care of the business arrangements, ready for you to jump back in, when you're ready."

Hermione paused, trying to gauge her parents' reaction to this news, after a few moments of silence Hermione spoke again.

"I know, this is a lot to take in. Just try to breath." She suggested, worrying that her parents were about to pass out from lack of oxygen – it looked as though neither had taken a proper breath in some time.

Finally Victoria spoke, "We've missed a whole year?" She asked, incredulously.

"Yes, I know it's a lot to take in." Hermione breathed out, thankful at least that they were not so far in a state of shock as to prevent speech. "But at least it's only been a year: that's far less time than I would have anticipated. By the end of the week, you can be back in your life as if you never left. I made sure you had everything taken care of before I went away. Everything is in the office, ready for you to go through it all when you're ready, to see what needs to be done: it shouldn't take you long, and it can keep until Monday."

"I need a drink." Her father said, finally breaking his silence. Hermione laughed, and went to the table behind the couch on which her parents were sitting. Pre-empting this remark, she had arrived early to decanter a bottle of scotch, pouring two good-sized measures, she handed a glass to her father, and then her mother.

After taking all this in, better than Hermione could have dreamed, her parents began asking some questions about what had happened in their absent year: Hermione told them of their alter-ego lifestyle she had set up for them in Australia, and the measures she had taken to secure the business in their absence. They discussed the finer points of the plan, which they originally knew, but because of the multitude of charms were having difficulty fully remember. Hermione told them of the next few days following their last memory, leading up to their departure, and she briefly explained everything she had done following their departure to Australia, and prior to her own departure to the Burrow. When her parents asked about their memories of the past eleven months, Hermione told them honestly that it would be highly unlikely that they would ever remember their time Down Under, at least not fully – it was possible that some memories could be triggered further in the future, though these memories would be few and far between, should it ever occur.

After a fair few hours of conversation, sometimes repeating things already gone over, and after eating a good sized lunch, drinking half a decanter of whiskey and a few pots of tea, well into the afternoon, Anthony finally asked the question she had been dreading.

"What have you been doing, while we were away? You told us what you did the week after out departure, but after that you never said? Did you return to school?"

Hermione nervously tugged down the sleeves of her top to cover her wrists; she had consciously chosen clothes that fully covered her skin, despite the warm weather, to hide the scars and some of the wounds still in the healing process – the last thing she needed were her parents to worry.

"It's really not that important," she lied, "Not right now, anyway. I didn't actually go back to Hogwarts, no. But, I don't really want to talk about it; it was quite a long year, to be honest. But what matters right now, is getting you two, and your lives, back on track."

Her parents looked at each other, recognising their daughter was keeping something big from them, but they respected her privacy as they always did, knowing she would talk when she was ready.

Her mother then finally decided to broach the subject she had been waiting to discuss for the past hour: "Have you spoken to Richard yet?" she asked Hermione her significantly.

Hermione took a deep breath, starting to get nervous at the direction the conversation was taking, though she had been expecting it to crop up eventually.

"No." Hermione answered bluntly, and then further explained, "I haven't spoken to anyone except on business terms – and by that, I mean directly involved with the day to day running of the practices, to tell them of your impending return. All friends I thought I would leave to you, I thought it would be best for you to tell them of your own return, after you've settled back in, and we've had time to create a good cover story of where you have spent the past eleven months."

"Well, I think we should call them very soon." Victoria determined. "We'll have them over to dinner. Thank goodness we've been only been gone a year, at least there's no reason to postpone the wedding. I'm sure between us we can have everything ready for the ceremony to take place mid-September. You always wanted an early autumn wedding, didn't you, Hermione? That will be the perfect time for it. What do you think?"

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_**A/N: Another chapter done and dusted, and chapter 4 is already half written. As long as the creativity is flowing I will keep writing, so the next update probably wont be too long away.**_

_**Until then, leave me some reviews :) I love to know what you guys think, I hope you're all enjoying the piece so far**_

_**xBx**_


	4. Chapter 4: Decisions

**_A/N: A quick note on the previous chapters, Thanks to a couple of reviews that really cemented my misgivings, I've edited the past chapters with regards to Harry being Head Auror, for now he's just a regular Auror, along with Ron, though when the department settles back into a normal routine again he will be groomed to take charge as Head Auror eventually - but that will come into play later on in the story._  
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**_Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, and to all my readers, I hope you enjoy the next chapter._**

**_xBx_**

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**~ Chapter 4: Decisions ~**

Draco had spent the entire morning pacing his library, staring at the clock, waiting for the hours to pass. His mother's trial would be starting at 1pm, and he had nothing to do for the rest of the morning but wait. Blaise arrived around mid-morning, intending to provide Draco with moral support, and found him still pacing, though now with a glass of Firewhiskey in hand.

"I wouldn't drink too much of that before court," Blaise commented in lieu of a greeting, "I don't think it would help your Mother look good, if her son appeared to be a drunkard."

"I don't know," Draco scowled, "Maybe it will make the Wizengamot sympathetic – without my mother to look after me I'm going to the dogs." He joked dryly.

Blaise laughed, "Yeah, because that will work on the Wizengamot." He commented with sarcasm.

Draco shrugged, "It's only one glass, to settle my nerves. It's going to take a lot more than that to get me drunk. And besides, I'm not even really drinking it, I just needed something to do with my hands. Would you like one?" He offered, remembering his courtesy at the last minute.

"I think I'll pass," Blaise replied, taking a seat, "One of us should keep a clear head." He joked.

When Draco failed to respond, Blaise sighed and spoke again, "Drake, stop your pacing, you're only going to stress yourself out even more. You've done everything you could to help her. At the end of the day, it's in her hands and the hands of the Wizengamot. As long as she tells the absolute truth, she'll be fine."

Draco succumbed and let himself fall into a couch, "You're right, I know, but it doesn't make it any easier. I hate having no control!" He exclaimed. "How early do you think we can go to the courtrooms?" He asked quietly, after minutes of silence.

Blaise shrugged, "Well there are no trials on this morning, as far as I'm aware, you're Mother's is the first of the lot, so the rooms will be empty. We'll want to get there reasonably early, but you wouldn't want to be sat around in them for too long. I'd say we leave here about twelve, go by Floo, that will give us enough time to get through the security checks, even grab a coffee before heading down."

Draco nodded, then sat in silence, the pair didn't move for the next hour; they sat staring at the fire in silence until Draco abruptly stood up, laid his barely-touched drink on the table, and took up his tie and robe he had flung unceremoniously across the couch when he had first entered. When he was correctly attired, he pulled a pot from the mantle piece and held it out silently to Blaise, who stood and joined his friend by the fire. Silently, Blaise took a handful of Floo Powder, and tossed it into the grate, turning the flames green. Stepping in, he calmly declared "Ministry of Magic, Visitor's Fireplace." And disappeared with a whoosh, Draco calmly followed the same routine, and appeared moments later in a cavernous marble fireplace, stepping out to stand beside his best friend in the large Floo Network Corridor of the Ministry Of Magic.

Silently they made their way out into the main atrium, through security checks, toward the elevators and down to the courtrooms.

As the par descended the stairs from the Department of Mysteries, Blaise spoke up for the first time, "What courtroom number is the trial to be held?" He asked quietly.

"Seven," Draco answered immediately, having committed the letter concerning his parents' trials he had received to memory, "There should be seats reserved at the front of the Gallery for us." He said monotonously as they started their walk down the gloomy corridor of courtrooms.

Blaise smiled, "Lucky number seven."

"Lets hope" Draco sighed.

At the door marked with a large brass "7" Blaise grasped Draco's shoulder, "Whatever happens in their mate, you're going to be fine. You've got your plan sorting your life out, and you're going to do it. I'll be at your side to help you along the way, even if your parents wont be."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Draco said, genuinely.

"And if you ever mention this conversation to anyone," Blaise continued, "If you let slip how feminine I'm coming off right now, I will kill you."

Draco snorted and pushed open the door, despite their early arrival they were not the first ones to enter: a quarter of the Wizengamot had already convened, and so had some of the Aurors – Potter and Weasley among them, the former of whom was looking rather tense. Potter looked up from his conversation with the elderly Auror Draco knew to be Horatio Trent, acting Head of the department, though in his anxiety to retire was wanting to Groom Potter up to be his replacement. On seeing Draco enter, Potter gave him a nod of acknowledgement, with no smile, but no hostility either, a nod which Draco returned, before taking his appointed seat, closely followed by Blaise.

The room steadily filled, though the noise level barely increased, five minutes before the trial was due to begin, Kingsley Shacklebolt hurried into the room and quickly took his seat at the head of the proceedings, next to Potter. Draco was sufficiently close enough to the Wizengamot to be able to hear Kingsley's quiet conversation with Potter, over the minimal mutters of others around them.

"Did everything go alright with the Grangers?" Harry asked, concern in his voice, "Only we were starting to worry, we thought you'd be here by now."

Kingsley gave a reassuring nod, "Everything went perfectly, no glitches at all with the memory remodification. I left Hermione a while ago, she said would be fine handling the explanations alone, it was some admin issues here that delayed me."

Most of the tension Draco had seen in Potter seemed to disappear at this point, "So Hermione was ok when you left her?" Draco heard Potter ask.

"Perfectly," Kingsley assured.

At this point Kingsley stood and a hush fell over the courtroom, he looked over to his undersecretary who had the duty of documenting the session's proceedings: Draco knew him to be a Weasley mainly because of his distinct red hair, though which one he had no idea – he remembered him being Head Boy at Hogwarts, but his name he had forgotten.

When the bespectacled Weasley nodded that he was ready, Kingsley spoke, addressing the entire room.

"The Wizengamot has convened today, Thursday the 22nd of June, to commence the first day of trials of those convicted of carrying out the crimes committed under the tyranny of the deceased Tom Marvolo Riddle, known by the pseudonym Voldemort-" Draco couldn't help but notice the shivers and hisses that ran around the room at the mention of his name, even in death many still feared the mention of his name.

Kingsley continued, ignoring the interruption, "and of being Death Eaters who consciously and willingly entered into the various activities associated with that group. "

Here, Kingsley nodded to the porter on the door, signalling for the first of the accused to be brought forward, the large wooden door swung open and Draco watched his mother being escorted to the chair in the centre of the room. Narcissa took the seat calmly, and looked up at the Wizengamot.

"The first to trial to commence is that of Narcissa Malfoy. Interrogators: Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic; Horatio Trent, Lead Auror, and Rebecca Athena Riviera, Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley."

Kingsley then faced Narcissa, "You are Narcissa Malfoy, formerly Black, the wife of Lucius Malfoy, are you not?" Kingsley clarified.

"I am," Narcissa answered in a strong tone.

"Firstly and foremost you are charged with being a member of the group, styling themselves 'the Death Eaters'. How do you plead?" Kingsley asked formally.

"Guilty by Association." Narcissa stated, Draco frowned, what did she mean by that? Surely she was only supposed to answer guilty or not guilty?

"Would you care to elaborate you meaning of Association?" Queried Rebecca with a frown, leaning forward in her seat - Draco assumed this was Rebecca, as only the interrogators were allowed to speak to the accused.

"I was never fully initiated into the Death Eaters, I was never branded with the dark mark – of course that doesn't really mean much, The Dark Lord only ever branded those who had served him a number of years, and who had gained a high level in his esteem; only those in his inner circle were ever given the brand." She explained clearly, keeping her calm,

"But my husband was one of these people, he was branded, and has worn the brand for many years. Through him I became part of the Dark Lord's elite: through association, even without the mark, I was considered one of them. My husband was a Death Eater, and therefore I was given that title also." Narcissa finished.

Kingsley then took up his lines again, "You are also charged with taking part in the torture and subsequent murder of multiple wizards, witches and muggles, over the years of Voldemort's reign, as well as preceding his return: including the torture of the muggle family, the Roberts, at the Quidditch World Cup four years ago, and more recently, the murder of Charity Burbage, a former Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. How do you plead?"

"I did not take an active part in the Murder of Ms Burbage, but I was present for the entire ordeal -" Narcissa began,

"A simple guilty or not guilty will suffice for now Mrs Malfoy." Kingsley reminded her.

"Guilty," she admitted, "I was involved too much for me to be otherwise."

"Do you have a case to bring before for us, to justify your actions?" Kingsley asked.

"It will not justify my actions," Narcissa spoke truthfully, "But I will truthfully explain my involvement as best I can."

Kingsley Shacklebolt took a seat and silently invited Narcissa to begin her narrative.

Draco sat there and listened as his Mother began to document her full involvement in Voldemort's regime from the very beginning; the more she talked the more she realised how heavy a hand his Father actually had. After detailing how she became a part of the Death Eaters after marriage, she then went on to address the charges directly.

"At the Quidditch World Cup, I was part of the group who had the Roberts family suspended in the air. I am not proud of my involvement, but my husband requested my presence at his side so I went along with him. When the dark Lord returned, my husband was once again directly involved with him, he was summoned right back into his inner circle – some would say they were friends, they all liked to believe so. But I was outside the circle looking in and I saw more clearly for it; the Dark Lord didn't have friends, just very devoted followers, whom he liked to use to his advantage. For a long time I had had my misgivings about the lengths the Dark Lord would go to in order to get what he wants. I confess I hadn't always been so concerned, but now my priorities had changed." Here Narcissa looked at her son, and she smiled a genuine smile – Draco had seen this smile plenty of times growing up, though he was positive no one else had had the privilege of seeing her quite so emotionally transparent. When Draco glanced up at the Wizengamot his suspicions were confirmed, a majority had raised their eyebrows at such a display, though Kingsley's face had remained a perfect mask, Potter however was leaning forward, an intense thoughtful look on his face.

His mother continued, looking back at the Wizengamot, "Being a mother changes you, it changes your priorities. Draco was my main concern now, and so I took a step back from my husbands dealings, the less I was involved, the better, I felt. Unfortunately that didn't work for me. After my husband was arrested in the Department of Mysteries, the Dark Lord felt the need to ensure better service in future: he invited himself into our home, and invited Draco to take his father's place until Lucius was freed. I had no way to escape from that except death. I was a party to the torture and murder of Ms Burbage: I didn't raise a wand myself, but it happened in my home, right in front of me."

The Wizengamot continued to listen in silence, drinking in every word, Percy Weasley continuing to write down everything being said.

"During the last year of the Dark Lord's reign, I was under his constant supervision, as was my Husband: when he would disappear for lengths of time we were in Lockdown at Malfoy Manor, and when he returned, we never left his side. I did everything I was asked to do because I knew it was the only way to keep my son safe. By the end of his reign, neither my Husband nor myself wanted any part of what was happening, but we couldn't get away. During the battle of Hogwarts our only concern was Draco: he was somewhere in the castle and all I wanted was to get to him so I could get him safely out, everything I did that night, I did with the thought of keeping him safe. Lucius and I were planning to run that night. As soon as there was a chance we were going to flee, we were going to take Draco with us, and hide-" Narcissa admitted.

Draco looked in shock at his mother, why had she never mentioned this to him? Draco felt Blaise turn to look at him, he glanced at his friend and shrugged,

"I had no idea" Draco mouthed in response to Blaise's unasked question, before turning back to face his mother, who was still talking,

"- we eventually made it into the castle, and found Draco, but then Harry Potter was duelling the Dark Lord, and the next thing we knew he was gone. It seemed pointless to run then." She finished.

Kingsley let the narrative sink in, and then stood once more, "Do you have any witnesses you wish to call to your defence, to corroborate any or all of your account?" he asked, formality still present in his tone.

Narcissa shook her head, "None at all, the only witnesses are Death Eaters themselves." She answered.

"Do you wish to present any character witnesses, to vouch for your honesty?" Kingsley offered.

Narcissa smiled, "I have no one I can call." She admitted, then looked beyond Kingsley in mild surprise, Draco followed his Mother's gaze and saw that Potter had stood up to speak.

"I will stand as a character witnesses." He stated causing a ripple of shock to move through the room. Ron Weasley was looking at his friend as if he had lost his mind, and even Kingsley had raised an eyebrow at Potter's actions.

Draco watched Potter descend the few steps and turned to face the Wizengamot and began to speak. "Many of you don't know everything that happened that night, though you will all have heard the rumours. Halfway through the night I went to face Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest, he was joined by a select few of his followers – Mrs Malfoy included. We duelled, he fired a killing curse, which knocked us both from our feet."

Draco was unsure where this was going, and from the looks of the others in the room, he wasn't the only one, but they listened intently all the same, all except his mother, who was nodding along to the Narrative in clear remembrance of it all.

"In the confusion and concern for Voldemort no one actually knew if the curse had worked, if I was dead. Voldemort sent someone to check my body for signs of life – that someone was Narcissa Malfoy." Potter turned to look at Narcissa, who looked right back at him as he continued "When she felt my heart beat, heard my breath, she knew full well was alive: However, instead of breaking the truth, she shielded me from the view of everyone else and whispered 'Is Draco alive?'" Narcissa spoke the words in time with Potter, the pair looked at each other another moment, before Potter turned back to the Wizengamot to continue his speech.

"When I nodded in response, she sighed in relief before turning back and announcing I was dead. She lied to Voldemort, knowing that was the only way to her son, the only way she would get safely to the castle was with my body being paraded to the doors of Hogwarts. I'd also like to add that I saw the Malfoys in their own home earlier this year, I believe around Easter time, and not one of them – Lucius included – looked like they were there willingly. Belatrix Lestrange was a willing participant, but the Malfoys were more like hostages in their own home."

Harry finished his narrative looking directly at Kingsley, who asked: "Anything else to add?"

"That's all." Harry said.

Kingsley nodded, "You may retake your seat," He said to Harry. Harry nodded and made his way back, as he passed in front of him, Draco caught his eye and gave him a small smile and a nod of thanks, before returning his attention to Kingsley who had continued to speak.

"The court will be adjourned while the Wizengamot comes to a decision regarding the fate of Narcissa Malfoy." He declared formally. "Mrs Malfoy, you will be escorted to your waiting cell until you are summoned back to hear your verdict."

After his mother was escorted out, Kingsley spoke again, "Anyone who is not a member of the Wizengamot, I must ask you to leave the courtroom until a verdict is reached. Please take a coin from the basket by the door on your way out; it will notify you when a verdict is reached, summoning you back to the courtroom. Thank you."

Draco and Blaise stood with a number of others in the gallery, who had come to see the show. They waited for them to file out, and most of the Aurors, before heading to the door themselves, and picking a cold coin, which looked remarkably like a galleon, out of the basket.

Draco examined it quietly as he proceeded slowly up the corridor; he was distracted by a laugh behind them and he turned to see Potter and Weasley, the last to emerge from the courtroom, Harry was the one who had laughed.

"Well, I'll be damned," Draco heard him chuckle, while Ron frowned.

"What's so funny?" the red-head asked.

"You don't recognise these?" Potter asked starting to walk toward Draco and Blaise.

Blaise, who hadn't been paying attention to what was happening behind him, now asked Draco, "How do you reckon these work then?"

Harry and Ron had caught up to them by now, they heard Blaise's question and it was Harry who answered politely, as he passed, "It's a protean charm. Kingsley will touch his when the verdict is reached, and the others will glow at the same time."

Comprehension hit Ron at this point, "The D.A!" he exclaimed with a grin, as he and Potter continued along the corridor. "I always wondered what happened to the coins that got returned."

Neither Draco nor Blaise could comprehend Weasley's response, so they shrugged it off. Draco spoke up then, taking this opportunity to properly thank Harry, before he disappeared up the stairs.

"Potter, wait." Harry stopped and turned, letting Draco continue, "Thank you, for speaking up in there. I had no idea about what happened in the forest, my Mother never said. I know we don't deserve your kindness, nor even you forbearance, but I appreciate what you just did. So thank you."

Draco held out his hand in a gesture of goodwill, which Harry didn't hesitate to accept.

Shaking his hand Harry said, "You're welcome. Your mother deserved someone to stand up for her, it wouldn't have been right for me to keep quiet."

Harry then turned and continued on up the stairs, Draco and Blaise followed, heading to the Atrium to grab something to eat while they waited on the verdict.

###

Hermione stared at her parents, her mother's comment slowly sinking into her brain. "You can't be serious?" She asked quietly.

"Of course I am." Her mother said, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Ok, I know that you're memory of the past year doesn't exist. I know that it feels like you haven't been away. But a year _has _passed." Hermione began, trying to keep her composure, "I haven't seen you in twelve months, you have been absent for twelve months." Hermione reiterated.

"I would have thought you would be more concerned about that; I thought you would prefer to spend time readjusting, spend some quality time with me, compared to planning a party. I'm sorry if that is selfish of me." Hermione commented dryly.

Her mother smiled patiently, the way she always did when Hermione got like this. "Of course we want to spend time with you, of course we want to readjust. But adjusting wont take long - with regards to the business, honey we have complete faith in you – I remember starting to make plans a year ago." Her mother frowned, "Or would that be two years ago?" she asked, the shrugged before Hermione could answer. "The year you came home and told us You Know Who had come out into the open."

"That was two years ago." Hermione clarified, taking a seat the sofa facing her parents. "I returned to Hogwarts after that, for my sixth year, and when I returned-"

"You told us it was time to put our plans into action, time to go into hiding." Her father finished. "We remember. And your mother is right about the business; we have complete faith in you. You told us everything you intended to do, we've given you a good grounding in it, and you know everything we know. We trust you."

"And with regards to spending time with you, dear, what better way to spend it than planning your wedding?" Her mother added. "We'll have lots to do before September, we'll have to spend nearly all day every day planning. It's not impossible, but it will be full on – I just hope you can survive so much time with me." Her mother joked with a smile.

"Mother, isn't September too soon?" Hermione tried to reason, trying to find some potential way of getting out of the wedding, even simply postponing was enough for now, as long as she had some time to work on her mother. "I mean, you've only just got back, I haven't even decided what I'm going to do with my life yet, I need to figure that out before I can even think of marrying." Hermione explained, trying to at least make her parents consider the possibility of postponing.

Her father decided to intervene at this point, "Look, why don't we discuss this tomorrow," he said tactfully, ever the mediator between the two fiery females in his life. "It's been a long afternoon," He continued, turning to his wife, "Victoria, can't we leave this until the morning. We both need rest, get a good nights sleep, we need to allow ourselves at least tonight to let everything digest. I don't know about you, but finding out I have a full year of my life missing from my memory is taking quite a mental toll on me."

Hermione's mother sighed, "You're right." She looked at her daughter, "We'll talk more tomorrow, I am quite tired." She admitted, apologetically. "I hope you won't mind us retiring to bed so early?" she then frowned, "You do still live here?" she asked slowly, "Have you been staying here since you returned?"

Hermione sighed, resigning herself to defeat this evening and smiled wearily, "I haven't stayed here yet; I've been staying with Harry and Ron, while I've been preparing the house for your arrival" She explained, "But I will stay here tonight, I'll be here in case you need me. And of course I don't mind, you must be exhausted, after everything we've gone over today. I will call in on Harry and Ron for a while, but I'll be back before midnight."

"Thank you dear," Victoria said, rising from the sofa, her husband following suit. They kissed Hermione's head as they passed her on their way out of the Library, when the door shut behind them Hermione helped herself to a whiskey, and sat in front of the fire. The boy's wouldn't be finished dinner for another half hour she guessed, which would give her time to calm her thoughts before she apparated over to Grimmauld place, craving an evening of normality with Harry and Ron, before returning to the battle she knew would commence on the morrow.

She appeared on the top step, forty minutes later, and let herself in, within moments Kreacher appeared to tell her the boys were upstairs in the drawing room. When she entered, Harry jumped up with a smile, while Ron jolted himself out of the snooze he was falling into.

"Hermione, we wondered whether we'd be seeing you." He said, "Drink?" he offered.

Hermione nodded, "Yes please. And I told you I would call in." she said, taking her favourite seat.

"How are your parents?" Ron asked, stifling a yawn, as Harry poured a drink and handed a glass to Hermione.

"Tired, but good. Kingsley was great, the spells and charms worked perfectly. But it was long afternoon."

"How did they take the news?" Harry asked, returning to his seat.

"A lot better than I expected, they seemed to accept it really well. But we'll see what they're like tomorrow, they could still be in a little bit of shock at the moment. They've gone to bed already, they had a lot to take in this afternoon." Hermione explained.

"Are you spending the night here or there?" Harry asked, while Ron tried to keep awake.

"There, I think I'll stay there for a while, until they're fully settled." Hermione said, "But enough about my day, how was yours? First day of trials today, wasn't it? How did that go?"

"Really well actually" Harry said with a smile, "The first was Narcissa Malfoy, and it went really quick, we got through the entire thing in one afternoon."

"So soon? So she's been handed a verdict already?" Hermione asked, astonished.

"Yep," Ron joined in the conversation, "But when you look at how many are scheduled to happen, we need to keep them speedy otherwise we'll be there till next year."

"Well, hopefully we will be able to keep them speedy, if Narcissa can help us like she said she would." Harry countered, at which Hermione frowned.

"Hang on, help you? Take a step back for me please, I wasn't there remember, fill me in."

Harry laughed, "Sorry, of course. She pleaded guilty to the charges, but there were extenuating circumstances."

"Extenuating circumstances?" Hermione asked sceptically,

"She was never a fully fledged Death Eater, everything she did was at her husband's behest, or to ensure her son's safety." Harry elaborated.

"And the Wizengamot accepted this?" Hermione asked.

"Course they did," Ron said, "Once Harry stood up as a character witness in her defence."

Hermione's eyes widened, "You did?"

"Of course I did," Harry defended, "Come on Hermione, you saw her face when we were first brought to Malfoy Manor, she wasn't so much a proud hostess as a terrified hostage in her own home, and her husband and son didn't look any more comfortable than she did." Hermione lost her wide-eyed look and nodded her acceptance, Harry was completely in the right; she had noticed those looks too.

Harry continued, "And in the forest, she knew I was alive, but she lied" he told her for the first time, "Her lie brought me safely back to the castle, to finish him off, and allowed her to enter the castle safely to find her son."

"So what was her sentence?"

"She has to serve another two months in Azkaban, after which she'll be under house arrest at Malfoy Manor for twelve months, if her sister will consent to be her guardian."

"She has a sister?" Hermione asked, "I mean, another one, aside from Belatrix."

Harry laughed, "Yeah, Andromeda Tonks."

"Of course," Hermione laughed in realisation, "I always forget that. Is that all then? That seems fairly lenient, doesn't it?"

Harry shrugged "It is lenient to a degree, but she has agreed to help. She admitted during the trial that she had long been sceptical of Voldemort's regime, but by the time her doubts settled in her husband was too far involved, and the safety of her son was more important to her than her moral code. Kingsley decided to use this, and ask if she would aid them in the future trials buy giving us names of all those branded with the mark, all those who acted freely, and those who were under the imperious curse. She agreed of course, and I'm glad she did, because that information will be a huge help, especially if Lucius can corroborate her."

"Will he though?" Countered Ron, "I mean, he was the fanatic of the pair, obviously. She had doubts long before he did, and who's to say he really did have doubts?"

"What will he gain by keeping quiet? And Narcissa admitted to their plan of running away from Voldemort, sounds like he had the same amount as doubts she did."

Hermione smiled and leaned back in her chair, listening to the two of them debate, they had both matured a great deal this past year – they both had to, with the things they had had to face. Sometimes she had to remind herself that they were all still only teenagers, Harry not even eighteen yet! But the past year had been so long, it felt like their teenage years were long gone.

After another hour of relaxed discussion, Hermione took her leave, and spent her first night back at her parents house – she wanted to say it was her first night back home, but the word just didn't seem to fit the place anymore; but the more she thought about it, the more it perturbed her because she couldn't say where 'home' would be, if it wasn't here. The closest she could think of was the tent she had spent most of last year living in, Hermione still felt herself to be in limbo: she had no idea where her life was going to take her in the coming months.

When she woke the next morning it took a while for her to remember where she was. When she did she allowed herself a small smile and slipped out of bed, padded over barefoot to the doors, and let herself out onto the balcony. She was relatively calm considering what the day would have in store for her: she knew she wouldn't be able to convince her mother to call the wedding off entirely, at least not right away, but if she could at least buy herself some time she may be able to sway her eventually, all she needed was to get her mother to postpone, in this she felt somewhat confident she could persuade her mother to her way of thinking.

After breakfast, Hermione and her mother remained in the kitchen, while her father went up to the office to begin looking at the business.

Hermione went strait to the point: "Mother, I've been thinking, about my future, and what I want to do and I have options I would like to discuss with you," She started in complete calmness, knowing her mother would listen more to a calmly delivered, well thought out argument compared to a passionate rant.

Victoria leaned back on the couch, inviting her daughter to continue, Hermione smiled and took up the cue:

"I have two possible routes: first to return to school and take my final year, take my exams, and get my qualifications, before enrolling in an internship at the Ministry. Going back to Hogwarts will also give me time to really think about the department I want to enter." Hermione explained, her mother nodded, without saying a word, letting her continue uninterrupted.

"On the other hand," Hermione continued, "I do have the option to join the ministry right away, without my full qualifications: I've been given paperwork on trainee programmes for nearly every department – I'm fairly well known in the Wizarding world," She explained modestly, "The ministry knows of my achievements, both academically speaking, and outside Hogwarts; the know of my work ethic, my dedication and my reliability. Every department I've received information from are happy to take me on immediately, requesting only that I take the relevant NEWT exams they require. They all start around mid-October, they provide a rather impressive salary package for an internship, as well as accommodation for the first year; I would be studying part time as well, ready to sit the two or three exams I'll need next summer. It's a perfect opportunity for me to take my first step into working in the wizarding world. Of course, the same opportunity will be available to me next year as well, should I decide to return to Hogwarts, but it's there for me now if returning to Hogwarts isn't ideal for me." Hermione finished.

Her mother was quiet for a few moments, considering Hermione's options. "Would you like my advice?" She asked her daughter, "Or have you made your decision."

"I would like your advice, I'm not one hundred percent certain what I want to do, and advice would be welcome." Hermione answered truthfully. "On the one hand, I've grown up so much this past year, that returning to Hogwarts would seem like a little bit of a step back, I'm definitely ready to go out to work and start my career. But on the other hand, I want to finish my education completely: I want to graduate from Hogwarts, with the best NEWT grades possible, like I dreamed of that very first day I stepped foot in the castle."

Her mother nodded, then spoke. "Well, either option wouldn't really pose much of an issue for you. Should you decide to go strait into work, you wouldn't need the accommodation - Richard has an apartment in London, does he not? I'm sure when you're married he'd happily move down there with you, when you tell him your plans. And your October start date is perfect, you can be married, have your honeymoon and be back in London in time for your first day, without it being too rushed."

Hermione gaped, as her mother continued, "And if you do decide to return to Hogwarts, well we'll just postpone the wedding until after you graduate, it's not ideal, but it's possible." She stated simply.

Hermione tried so hard not to lose her temper, she knew her mother would be hard to sway, but her obstinacy in this matter really was a lot to take. Finally she regained her speech, and spoke as calmly as she could:

"I'm sorry, but no. Not once did I mention marrying Richard in my options." She stated, getting frustrated at her Mothers insistence in this, and her subsequent reluctance to listen to her. "Right now, I need to focus on myself, I need to get my life on track, I can't do that, and embark on a marriage at the same time."

Hermione's mother smiled sweetly, "It did not need to be mentioned, it's a given that it's going to happen. You will marry him, and it will be part of getting your life on back on track – you will both get back on track together."

Hermione laughed, "No, it's not a given. I won't marry him. I can't marry him, he knows nothing about me! You can't force me into this."

"If you take an internship," Her mother reiterated, ignoring her daughters outburst, "You can be married, have your honeymoon and be back before your start date, as I said before, without any rush. I see no issue with this. But you will marry him in September.

"Then I'm returning to Hogwarts. I can't very well marry him in mid-September if I'm holed up in a castle, up in Scotland, can I?" Hermione stated in desperation.

"Then, we will hold off until June – it won't be the early autumn wedding you've always wanted, but it will be beautiful, we could have it here, in the gardens." She smiled, Hermione shook her head in disbelief, and her mother frowned.

"Hermione, I don't understand why you are so against this all of a sudden, once you were over the moon about this match." Victoria reminded her daughter.

Hermione ran her hands through her hair in frustration, "I'm not suddenly against it, mother, I've been against it for some time."

"And I'm not hearing you come up with any reasonable objections, Hermione." Her mother countered, beginning to become as frustrated as her daughter.

Hermione stood up, and re-stated in calm coldness, "I won't marry him. I can't. And I will return to Hogwarts in September to finish my education." She then apparated out of the room, leaving her mother to cool down after their disagreement, appearing a moment later outside Grimmauld Place.

Letting herself in, she made her way directly to the drawing room, seating herself at the desk; she pulled out her Hogwarts letter from the drawer where she had left it, and took out a quill, ink and parchment from a separate draw to begin her response.

Before she could start, Kreacher appeared at her side, "Good morning Miss Hermione, I did not know we were to be expecting you. Will you be joining Master Harry and Mr Weasley for dinner later this evening?"

"Oh, hi Kreacher, sorry," she apologised, "No, thank you. I only dropped by to answer my Hogwarts letter, I forgot I'd left it here." She explained, "I'll be dining with my parents tonight, though I will look in after if that's alright?"

"Of course, Miss. I'll leave you to your letter writing, please call if you need anything."

"Thank you Kreacher," Hermione smiled as the elf left the room. Hermione turned back to her parchment and wrote her response accepting the invitation to return to Hogwarts in September to complete her final year of studies. When the letter was complete she rolled it into a scroll, sealed with wax then departed for the post office in Diagon Alley, thinking of calling at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch, before heading home to face her parents.

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_**A/N: The next update will definitely be a while in coming, as I will be finishing my previous fanfic in the coming weeks. But until then, I hope you liked the recent update. Next chapter we will finally get to meet Hermione's infamous fiancé, Mr Richard Alden.**_

_**Don't forget to leave a review :)**_

_**xBx**_


	5. Chapter 5: Another Bump in the Road

**_A/N: Finally, I'm back. My other FanFic has been completed, which means I can now fully devote my time to 'Tainted...'_  
**

**_I hope you're all enjoying the piece so far, I want to thank you all for reading, and thank you to all the reviews, your support is greatly appreciated :)_**

**_I know, at the end of last chapter I promised an introduction to the infamous Richard Alden...but I got sidetracked with other things, and Richard has been pushed back to the next chapter. He will make it to the story eventually, but this chapter wasn't for him - I decided I needed to spend a little time on Hermione's relationship with her mother. Victoria Granger hasn't come off too good so far - I would like to stress, she does love her daughter, but she's just a little misguided about her, Hermione has kept a lot of secrets to keep her Mother happy, and this huge misunderstanding is the result of it. So we'll be seeing a bit of a softer side to Victoria in this chapter._**

**_Also, after leaving the story a few weeks, I went back a re-read what I'd got so far, and I noticed a few minor mistakes, so I've edited all the chapters - nothing major has changed with regards to the plot, just a few spellings and a couple of extra words here and there :)_**

**_Now I'll be quiet and let you guys read & enjoy :)_**

**_xBx_**

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**~ Chapter 5: Another Bump in the Road ~**

Hermione apparated back into the kitchen at her parents home in the middle of the afternoon, the resounding crack that accompanied her succeeded in giving her father a shock, almost dropping the kettle he was filling, into the sink. He whirled around in alarm, sending water everywhere, and breathed a sigh of relief, mingled with a sigh of exasperation when he saw his daughter.

"Jesus, Hermione. You scared the living daylights out of me." He scolded her.

Hermione giggled sheepishly, "I'm sorry, I've gotten so used to apparating everywhere now, I hardly give it a second thought. I forget it's not something you're used to."

Her father smiled, "I'm making a tea, would you like one?" He asked, topping up the kettle and placing it on to boil.

"Yes, please." Hermione nodded, placing the two paper bags she was carrying onto the worktop.

"So you went shopping did you?" Her father commented, noticing the bags, "After you stormed out on your mother," he finished.

"I didn't storm-" Hermione began defensively, but her father raised his eyebrows in disbelief and Hermione's shoulders slumped, "Fine, maybe I stormed a little," she conceded, "I'm sorry, I guess I didn't handle it well, but she just wouldn't listen." Hermione tried to explain, hopping onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

"What wouldn't she listen to?" Anthony asked calmly, it was Hermione's turn to raise her eyebrows.

"Are you kidding?" she asked, earning a frown.

Her father continued with the diplomatic calm he often employed when mediating between his wife and daughter, who were too much alike in their hardheaded stubbornness.

"I've heard your mother's account, and now I want to hear yours," he started as he made the tea. "What did you discuss? What did you say to your mother, and what was her response? And no embellishments," he added.

Hermione sighed, and taking the mug her father offered her, gave him a brief outline of the encounter. "I wanted to discuss my options for the next year, I told her about the employment opportunities I have at the Ministry, I told her about re-enrolling at Hogwarts for my final year. But she still insists that I marry, despite my other options."

"Did she reject your other options?" Anthony asked, already knowing the answer.

"No," Hermione answered quietly and a little reluctantly, knowing the reasoning technique he was employing with her, as she had used it plenty of times on Harry and Ron. "She thought they were both great for me. But she expects me do that _and _marry Richard." Hermione explained.

"And you don't feel you can do that," Her father clarified.

"No," Hermione said passionately, relieved that her father was listening and understood her, "But mum won't accept that."

"Have you explained to her _why_ you feel you can't do both? And before you start -" he added hastily, holding up a hand, seeing that Hermione was about to heatedly interrupt, "I mean really thoroughly explained. Outlined your reasons clearly and calmly, like you did with your proposal this morning."

Hermione bit her lip; if she was honest with herself, she hadn't. Her father smiled; knowing he wouldn't need to continue further, that Hermione already knew the next step, he changed the subject,

"So what did you buy?" he asked, indicating the paper bags.

"I had lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, so I picked up some of their elf-made wine I know you and Mother like, and I also picked up a couple of bottles of Firewhiskey to add to our collection downstairs." Hermione said with a smile, "I remember I never bought some last year, before you left. I hadn't really drank it myself, but I've taken a liking to it, so I thought you should try it."

Anthony raised his eyebrows, "Not too much of a liking I hope." He accused, causing Hermione to laugh.

"No, but a small glass after dinner, is divine." She assured him.

"Then I shall certainly give it a go, but not now, I need to finish up in the office - you did a good job." He commended her, "So there isn't really much for me to do, I just wanted to make sure I know everything that's happened this year, get up to speed before Monday. Why don't you go put them down in the cellar, and then talk to your mother, please? She's busy with some emails at the moment, but when she's done, I'll send her to find you."

Hermione sighed, "I will try. I'll be up in my room."

"Thank you," Her father smiled, before leaving the kitchen. Hermione took her purchases downstairs and placed them away accordingly, before going up to her sitting room and deciding to dig out her course books from her sixth year – if she was returning to Hogwarts she may as well start re-acquainting herself with her lessons.

Half an hour later, Victoria entered her daughter's sitting room and found her curled on the sofa in front of the fire, her head buried in a book. She smiled fondly at the vision she had seen so often.

Hermione looked up when she felt the presence watching her, and smiled at her mother's smile.

"Hi. Dad said you be coming to find me." She said.

"Can I sit?" Victoria asked, Hermione laughed at the politeness that seemed so unnecessary.

"Of course," she said, moving round so she could face her mother as she took a seat on the sofa next to her.

"I feel I should apologise to you, for my manner of talking to you this morning." Victoria began, "I understand you think I'm forcing this marriage on you, that is not my intention you must believe me."

"Then, why are you so adamant about it?" Hermione asked.

"Because you haven't told me a reason why I shouldn't be. Hermione, you keep saying you're not going to marry him, but you are not telling me why? Before we left, the engagement seemed a settled thing, though it wasn't official, I'll admit. And you seemed happy at the time, with the prospect of marrying Richard. What has happened since then to change all this?" Victoria asked, genuinely confused at the apparent change in her daughter's feelings.

"Everything!" Hermione exclaimed, "Everything has changed, I've changed, my life has changed. I am not the same girl I was when the engagement was first talked of, I've done too much, and I've seen too much to go back to being that girl."

"You need to help me understand, Hermione." Her mother practically begged her calmly, "How can one year change you so drastically? You told us before we left that you would be going into hiding also, what happened while you were in hiding to change you so drastically in one year?"

Hermione sighed and looked at her mother sadly. "I wasn't in hiding." She admitted, "Well, I was, to a degree, but there was more to it than that. I was with Harry and Ron, all last year, and we, erm, we" Hermione struggled to find the right words to explain to her mother what she really got up to without alarming her too much. "We were finding the way to destroying Voldemort for good." She finished, somewhat lamely.

Victoria frowned, "Shouldn't that be the Ministry's job?" She asked, knowing enough of the Wizarding world that the Ministry seemed to house departments enough to deal with anything you could think of.

"It's complicated," Hermione started,

"I don't care," Victoria interrupted, "Tell me what you can – I won't say everything because I know there are things you don't want to talk about, I see it in your eyes. But tell me what you can so that I can understand. What was it that three teenagers had to do, that adults couldn't? And how has this changed your emotions so much?"

Hermione nodded, "Okay. Voldemort became extremely powerful, he took over the ministry, and anyone in open rebellion against him would not live to tell the tale, so the Ministry's power against him was pretty limited, practically non-existent. Even the Order had to retreat from working out in the open, they became an underground rebellion. Also, neither the Ministry nor the Order had the information about him that we three did." Hermione admitted, trying to keep her information to a bare minimum, so that she didn't overload her mother, but still telling her enough so that didn't become completely lost in the narrative.

"Dumbledore, before he passed away, shared a wealth of information with Harry, and in turn, Harry shared it with Ron and I. This information was the key to finding the way to finish Voldemort off for good. It was something Harry had to do. And so it was something Ron and I had to do as well. Harry was a little reluctant for us to join him; but we knew it would be hard, it would be long and it would be dangerous and we also knew he couldn't do it without us. We're the Golden Trio." She laughed, shaking her head at the term she had heard people use in reference to them.

Her mother couldn't help but laugh at her daughter, "You called yourselves 'The Golden Trio'?" Victoria asked incredulously, "Isn't that a little obnoxious, darling?"

Hermione frowned at her mother. "We didn't give ourselves the name." She defended herself, "Give some credit to our modesty, please. It's what we became known as at school. I mean, whenever anything happened it was always us three at the helm," Hermione explained, and smiled as she remembered with a feeling of nostalgia the things Harry Ron and she had managed to get away with.

"We'd break a hundred rules, get into some real sticky situations, sometimes quite possibly even breaking the law, but we usually came out shining," she said with a smile, which began to fade to sadness as she continued,

"And then further along, when it became about rebellion against oppressive teachers forced on us by a Ministry in denial, and leading the open fight against Voldemort, it was always us three at the head – people used to rally around us I guess," Hermione said.

"You did what, sorry?" Victoria was looking less than amused at her daughter's admission to apparent near-continual rule breaking. "I thought you were at school to learn? not cause continual trouble." Her mother frowned.

Hermione had the decency to look a little guilty, "Yeah, there's a lot of things that happened at school over the years that I may have failed to mention to you." Hermione admitted.

"But I was still always top of the class," Hermione defended quickly, "So I never neglected my learning, I kept my grades up," she assured her mother, hoping to lessen Victoria's disapproval.

Victoria still looked less than amused, so Hermione hurried on, explaining her rationale for past secrecy:

"Look, I knew you were a little reluctant to let me go to Hogwarts, and I knew that if you knew just how much trouble I could get into there, you would worry yourself senseless, and maybe even stop me attending." Hermione admitted,

"But I was always safe – well, mostly." She faltered, remembering being petrified in her second year, but she wasn't about to tell her mother that in a hurry. "But that's not the point, we don't need to go into too many details about what I got up to at school, but what I will tell you is that everything Harry, Ron and myself did over the years, we did as a team – if one of us hadn't been there we would never have pulled off half the things we did: We've been cemented as a trio ever since our first year, when we decided to try and get to the Philosopher's Stone before Voldemort could, and fighting him in the process."

Victoria frowned, "I thought Voldemort didn't return until a few years ago? At least that's what you told us," Victoria accused, then fully registering the full sentence her eyes widened, "And the philosophers stone? As in the legendary stone that -"

"Turns things to gold and produces the elixir of life, yeah that's the one." Hermione finished her mother's sentence, trying to move the conversation along. "It's not just a legend, well it wasn't, that was the only stone left and it's since been destroyed. And you're right, Voldemort didn't return until a few years ago, not properly at any rate. When he was trying to get the stone, he didn't have a body of his own, his soul simply existed, it had no host of it's own, so he would possess a host I believe, anything from animals to humans. So he possessed one of the teachers – ironically it was the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher whom he chose to possess." Hermione said with a chuckle, but catching her mothers less than amused expression at Hermione's apparent flippancy, Hermione continued her narrative,

"Not appreciating the irony right now, okay then. What was I saying? Oh right, anyway, in trying to get to the stone we had to get through a series of defences, like a magical obstacle course if you will. Alone, neither one of us would have done it: but together we accomplished the seemingly impossible – my memory and my logic, Harry's bravery and determination, Ron's tactics and sacrifice, when we combined, we were unstoppable – we fed off each other, supported each other and trusted each other. That was where our fate was sealed I think: we knew then we had to stick together, because together we could do anything. So last year, when Harry set out to find and destroy the objects that were binding Voldemort to life, Ron and I knew we had to go with him." Hermione explained, hoping her mother was following her thoughts.

"What we did was dangerous, so dangerous. But we knew it would be, and everything we'd gotten ourselves into at school over the years wasn't particularly safe, so on some levels we were a little prepared I guess. Most of the time it was exhausting, it was scary, it was hard – the hardest thing I've ever done but there were moments that were rather exhilarating – I rode on the back of a dragon, as an escape from one of the many predicaments we got ourselves into. A dragon! I have a large burn on the back of my shoulder to prove it, how many people can say that?!" Hermione asked her mother, the adrenaline that pumped through her system even remembering the event made her eyes shine and her skin glow for a moment before she became serious again.

"I'm not saying all of it was fun, God no! But the successes we had, and the relief of survival was such a rush, and I came through it, I survived the fight, and it's filled me with a passion, a drive that I never knew was fully in me – don't get me wrong I've always been determined and I know that, and I have drive, but I never realised it could be so intense. And I don't think it's been a completely sudden change, I think this change has been coming about ever since I started Hogwarts, but I was suppressing it to a degree, because I always believed that once I finished Hogwarts I would return here and live in the muggle world to a degree. Hogwarts was an unbelievable adventure, and last year has made me want to keep that adventure going forever, in it's entirety. It's reawakened all the passion for magic and I know now that I can't compromise, like I'd once considered doing. Even throughout Hogwarts, I still thought of having the life you picked out for me: That I would marry a man you approved of, a muggle who would help me continue your business. And as I grew up, and Richard and I grew closer, it all seemed to fit. Richard and I got on so well, it all seemed perfect, and I did fall for him, I did like him a lot. But now, I don't know, the past year was such an upheaval - I know I can never work at the Ministry then come home to a muggle life – I need to have magic surrounding me, at home as well as work.

"And even all this" – she gestured to the wealth around her, "This lifestyle I've been brought up in, that I thought I would never want to live without, even this can't hold me – I want happiness, true happiness, and that doesn't come with money, you've always told me that: I know money makes happiness easier, but it's not the be all and end all. The Weasleys have taken me in many times over the years, for Christmas and in the Summer, and they're not the wealthiest people in the world, in fact they rather struggle, but they are the happiest family unit I've ever seen." Hermione explained fondly,

"Seeing that different family dynamic, of open affection and chaos, it made me question what I really want in my future, and I don't know if that person that once fell for Richard is still me; I haven't seen him in a year. And when we said goodbye, it was rather final for me, mainly because I didn't expect to be back so soon, and I think it was rather final for him too - "

"Did you speak to him after we left?" Her mother asked curiously, and Hermione nodded.

"Yes, I told him I was going travelling, separately from you, but that I was leaving none the less. Going back to him, to the engagement, I don't know if I can do it. I'm a different person now, he'll know that, he'll see that."

Victoria sat in silence for a while then spoke hesitatingly, "I'm glad you opened up a little more, though you still haven't told me much of what you got up to last year. But I understand your feelings a little better, at least." Victoria paused as if to gather her thoughts then continued,

"I'm glad you're returning to Hogwarts to finish your education, you can use this year to find yourself again." She stated, "I believe postponing the wedding until next June is a very good idea now, and I apologise for trying to rush you into it this September. Now, you and Richard can take this year to get to know one another properly again: I will invite the Aldens to dinner next week, once you and Richard reacquaint you'll end up falling in love all over again."

Hermione wasn't quite sure who her mother was trying to convince, but she tried to remain calm.

"Mother, love is a strong word, I don't know if I ever truly loved him to begin with." Hermione could feel herself becoming exasperated again.

"You've had a rough year, a life-changing year, but you can not know your true feelings towards him until you see him again. So I will invite him for dinner, along with his parents. And you will get to know him again, while you get to know yourself. Take it one step at a time. Please Hermione," Victoria asked, "Put the engagement from your mind for now if you wish, but please try to get to know him again. Don't write this future off completely, that's all I'm asking for now."

The pair sat in silence for a while; Hermione could think of nothing to say to dissuade her mother – after all, there was a little truth in what she was saying. And the more she thought of it, the more she realised seeing Richard again could be a good thing – when her mother saw her and Richard together, and saw the truth of their less than romantic dynamic, she would have to finally accept what Hermione had been saying all along.

Victoria spoke again, quite suddenly, as if only just remembering what Hermione had mentioned earlier: "Now I have to ask. A dragon burn?"

Hermione couldn't help but grin, at her mother's expression of incredulity, disbelief and slight fear "Yes. I have a fair few battle scars from the past year, I didn't want to alarm you with them, which is why I've been wearing long sleeves even in this heat. Do you want to see it?"

Victoria shook her head, and then raised herself up, "I think that is enough for me to know about your escapades, for now. I don't need to see the proof just yet"

Hermione laughed, "Perhaps you're right, I wouldn't want to overload you and cause you a heart attack."

Victoria looked at her daughter and smiled, "You know, you are too much like your father sometimes: you are turning out to be just as reckless as him."

Hermione smiled, "Oh, I'm very much my mother's daughter also – I've certainly inherited your stubbornness."

"Determination, dear" Her mother corrected her with a sly smile, as she turned to leave, "Determination is far less grotesque in a woman."

###

Draco sat in his dining room facing his Aunt Andromeda, the pair in an awkward silence, and both conscious of the reasons they had never been permitted to meet until now. Andromeda Tonks was perhaps the more uncomfortable of the two, being in a house she was so unfamiliar with, and which oozed negativity from its very walls – or so she felt.

Draco had extended the invitation to dinner as soon as he had learnt that his mother's release from Azkaban would remain on the condition of Andromeda's supervision. Their meeting had been incredibly formal and uncomfortable, and while eating had proved to be a useful distraction from the necessity of talking it had not dispelled the awkward atmosphere that persisted.

Draco cleared his throat, and broke the silence. "I'm sorry about your daughter, Andromeda. Tonks was a great Auror." He acknowledged with sincerity.

Andromeda gave a small smile, "Thank you. Though she was no longer a Tonks. Dora married Remus Lupin a little over a year ago, I'm sure you will have heard."

Draco nodded, "Of course. My apologies. They had a son, didn't they?" he asked, suddenly remembering, "Where is he?"

Andromeda's eyes brightened at the mention of her Grandson, "Yes, Teddy. They named him after his grandfather. I have custody of him. But tonight he's with Harry. I thought our first meeting, and discussing plans, would go more smoothly without the distraction of a child." She explained with a smile.

"Harry, as in Potter?" Draco asked, with slight contempt. His aunt nodded, and Draco shook his head, "Is there anything that the Golden Boy doesn't interfere with?" he muttered.

Andromeda frowned, "Harry is Teddy's Godfather." She explained, "He and Teddy's Godmother have as much parental right over Teddy as I do. He is not interfering, he is doing what Remus and Dora asked him to do. And he will do it marvellously I'm sure." She added, her tone somewhat icy, and Draco shifted uncomfortably – it was bad enough his Aunt Andromeda looked almost identical to his Aunt Bella, but in that moment she had sounded too much like her deceased sibling for his comfort, and Draco knew he would have to watch his step with this one.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," he said hastily, then asked, unable to help himself: "Forgive me, but are you sure Potter can handle the responsibility alone?"

His aunt frowned, "I'm sure he'll manage perfectly well. But he isn't alone: Teddy has a responsible Godmother, who can even keep Harry in check; she's over at Grimmauld Place with them now. And the Weasley's are only a Floo away should they be needed. I have no qualms at all about their suitability to help raise my Grandson, their support network is the best available. Dora and Remus chose well."

"And just who did Dora and Remus choose as Godmother, to take on the task of Teddy and Harry?" Draco asked in genuine interest.

"Hermione Granger, of course. I believe you know her, from what I know of the pair they make an excellent team, and I believe Dora grew quite fond of her during their time in the Order."

Draco nodded, "Of course, how obvious, the Boy Wonder and the Gryffindor Princess. No doubt they'll make an excellent parenting team." He commented dryly, he noticed Andromeda's frown, but the pair lapsed back into silence until Draco broke it once again.

"So lets discuss arrangements." He said, deciding to get to business, "When my mother is released, I assume you will be moving in with us?" He asked.

Andromeda sighed, "I assume so. Though I will add it gives me little pleasure. This place doesn't exactly exude homely hospitality."

Draco snorted, "I can't disagree with you there. I'll admit, the comfort levels of the place have slipped remarkably over the last couple of years."

"And you didn't think to try and remedy this while you were home alone?" Andromeda retaliated.

This time it was Draco's turn to frown, "Interior decorating is hardly my forté, and besides I was rather preoccupied with trying to build some sort of legal defence for my Mother."

"Not your father, also?" Andromeda queried, forgetting her hostility in genuine surprise at this omission.

Draco sighed, picked up his goblet and leaned back in his chair, "In all honesty, I've seen a different side to my father in recent years – or rather I've begun to view him from a different perspective. He is not the man I used to think he was, nor the idol I once wished to emulate. I'm very interested to see how he presents himself at his trial, and curious to see how sincere he will be. But I don't believe for one second that he should escape a healthy stint in Azkaban. I think that would do him good, and I think it would be healthy for Mother and I to try and regain some semblance of normality back into our lives, without his influence. At least for the time being."

As Draco was speaking, Andromeda had also leaned back in her chair, with goblet in hand, to listen closely to her nephew's speech. She remained silent and thoughtful as Draco to a sip from his goblet.

Draco eventually spoke again: "I would like my mother to return here, to her home, so that we can begin to move on immediately, I think this will be best. I will be returning to Hogwarts in September, to retake my final year and it will be hard enough for my mother to try and move on alone, without with the added stress of not even being in her own home.

"I would also like you to move in with us, not just because the Wizengamot demand it, but also because I believe it will be good for us. This house needs a positive influence on it, we need a positive influence on our lives, and I think your influence would be good for us. How soon you wish to move in is up to you, I can have a bedroom ready for you in an instant, and of course I can prepare a suitable Nursery for your grandson."

Draco looked up into his Aunt Andromeda's face, so much like Bellatrix, but now he saw the real difference and smiled – Andromeda's features were softened by the expression of pure kindness, an expression (and quality) which was constantly missing from his Aunt Bella.

"And we can start redecorating the entire house to make you more comfortable, if you wish." He added, with a small smile.

Andromeda shrugged, "The colour scheme isn't particularly bad, it just needs brightening up. A few tricky little spells to lighten the tones and the place will be perfectly decent. You know, your mother and I were rather close when we were young. She was my favourite sister, and I believe I had a positive influence on her, to a degree. But when I married Ted and I was cast out of the family, Narcissa was unable to speak to me ever again, and Bellatrix got a firm hold on her. And then she married your father, and her fate was settled. I always wonder what would have happened if she had defied our parents and kept contact with me, I wonder if things would have turned out so bad if I had still been able to retain some slight influence over her."

Draco pondered for a while, and then shrugged, "I guess we'll never know. But at least we can have your positive influence now. Will Teddy be coming with you?" Draco asked.

"I honestly can not say." Said Andromeda sadly, "I would like to think he will be, but I'm afraid I can't take full responsibility for the decision – His Godparent's have an equal say in the matter. And considering the feelings between Harry, Hermione and yourself, I'm not sure how they would feel about Teddy being raised under your roof." She told him honestly, and Draco had the decency to shift uncomfortably and look a little ashamed.

###

Hermione sat in Harry's room in Grimmauld Place, in a rocking chair next to a large ornate crib that was placed next to the large four-poster. It was coming up to midnight, and Harry was lounging comfortably, stretched along the foot of the bed as Hermione gently rocked back and forth with Teddy in her arms, trying to get him back to sleep after he had woke up hungry.

"You're a natural with him," Harry complimented. Hermione smiled at the compliment.

"Of course I am, I'm his Godmother. And you're a natural with him as well." She assured him.

"Not like you," Harry countered, "You're much better at the soothing, I'm more fitted to the playing."

Hermione shrugged, "Maybe it's a woman thing, natural mothering instincts or something. But you'll get there, you can't hog all the playing to yourself, we're partners in this: that means an equal share of every aspect."

"I'm so glad Dora and Remus picked you as Godmother, you know. I don't think I could have handled this without you." He admitted, "I mean it's a huge responsibility, and I'm not the most responsible person, lets be honest. And at least I'm not competing with some unknown witch."

Hermione laughed, "You're more responsible than you think, you know. Not where yourself is concerned I'll admit, but when it comes to the welfare of the people around you. Well, you'll do anything to ensure their safety, even die to protect them, if I remember rightly." She said, a chill creeping into her voice, and hard glint in her eye, which made Harry squirm uncomfortably.

"You're not going to forgive me for that are you?" Harry asked quietly.

"No, I'm not." Hermione said with feeling, "And it's not the self sacrifice that I'm pissed about Harry, it's the fact you didn't even say goodbye." Harry looked up at Hermione, when he heard her voice start to break, and saw that her eyes had started to tear.

Harry got off the bed and went to sit at Hermione's feet, putting his hands onto her legs he looked into her eyes.

"I am so sorry Hermione. But once I knew I had to go to my death, I couldn't say my goodbyes to you. I knew that as soon as you saw me you would know what I was going to do, and leaving you would have been too hard. I don't think I would have had the strength to do it. One word from you, from any of you, would have made me stay. And I didn't think you would understand…" He trailed off helplessly.

"Harry James Potter, of course I would have understood. At least, I would have if you had told me, and I don't think I would have stopped you. But I certainly wouldn't have let you go alone. You shouldn't have had to face that alone, I would have been by your side - "

"Then you would have died also, that I could never allow. And what would have happened to Teddy?" Harry interrupted, looking down at the infant, then laughed.

Hermione frowned, and looked down too, to see what had caused Harry's sudden mirth. She laughed also when she saw Teddy's appearance had changed – he now bore Harry's emerald eyes, but his hair was the exact shade of Hermione's.

"He's definitely starting to bond with us" Hermione said, then looked back at Harry, and sighed.

"I know why you didn't tell me, I understand why you couldn't say goodbye. But it still huts when I think of it."

"Then don't think of it. Besides," Harry said grinning, "I always knew I was never really going to die."

Hermione frowned, "You did not." She accused, shoving him away with her leg, so that he fell back against the bed.

Harry shrugged, "Maybe I didn't, maybe I did. But at the end of the day, I'm here, I saved the day, we'll all lived happily ever after. Be happy I survived, and lets not dwell on that tiny fact that I died for ten minutes."

Hermione shook her head; "You are such an ass at times."

Harry laughed and hauled himself back to his feet, "Speaking of asses" he commented as he sat on the edge of his bed, "Did Andromeda tell you in her owl that she was having dinner with Malfoy this evening?"

Hermione frowned, "Yes, she did. Apparently they need to discuss living arrangements; do you know where Narcissa is planning to live when she leaves Azkaban? If she's under Andromeda's care, does that mean she'll be moving into Andromeda's place?"

Harry sighed, "Malfoy came to talk to me at the Ministry about it this morning. He wanted to be clear on the terms of her release: he knows she has to be under the custody of Andromeda, but he wanted to ascertain if that meant moving in with her, or whether it would be permissible for Narcissa to return home, and Andromeda move in with them. It's a valid option, as long as Andromeda and Narcissa are living under the same roof all is good."

"So you're telling me Andromeda is going to be moving in with her sister. Moving into Malfoy Manor." Hermione stated.

Harry nodded. "Possibly."

Hermione stared at him, then voiced the obvious, "You do realise that Teddy is currently being raised by his Grandmother. If Andromeda moves into Malfoy Manor, then so does Teddy. Are you seriously alright about that?"

Harry sighed, "Not particularly, no. Which is what we need to discuss. There is an alternative. When you've got your parents settled, you'll move back in here like we planned, and we could seriously consider having Teddy over here on a more permanent basis." He stated.

Hermione looked at him, "Are you serious? Do you really think we can?"

"It's a lot to take on, I know that, but we have the time to really think about it and prepare. Narcissa won't be leaving Azkaban until the end of August, that gives us…what?" He faltered, as he saw Hermione close her eyes, and her head and shoulders drop in defeat.

Hermione looked up, an apologetic look on her face "I answered Minerva's letter this morning. I'll be returning to Hogwarts September 1st. I'm not going to be here."

Harry couldn't help but look disappointed at the flaw in his plans. "Well, that changes things. I was so sure you'd go for the Ministry, why didn't you? And why didn't you tell me you'd made a decision?" he asked, slightly perturbed Hermione hadn't told him, when she usually told him everything.

"I'm sorry, it was such a sudden decision. I made the decision in the heat of the moment, I told my mother I would be going, we were arguing, then I apparated here and wrote the letter of acceptance within moments of shouting my decision in her face. I didn't think of the long-term consequences. And I never dreamed Andromeda would be moving into Malfoy Manor, never in a million years!" Hermione explained, somewhat distraught that everything seemed to be going so wrong.

"It's ok," Harry consoled her, "I didn't think of it either. But it looks like it's going to happen, so we need to discuss it, we need to decide what's best for Teddy."

"What's best for Teddy is stability." Hermione stated, "But that might mean him staying with Andromeda. If we did take him, I would be here for two days at the most, and then I'd be gone for four months. You're working everyday, he'd be bounced between here and the Burrow -"

"Not necessarily," Harry countered, "Most of my job is paperwork at the moment, and I can do a lot of it from home. I need to be in the ministry for trials, but we're aiming to have the majority of them done by September, we'll be down to a couple a week. And after that my hours can be flexible. I could be here with Teddy most of the time."

"But what about the other times? Harry you'd have to go into the office at some point. And what happens if you get called away? I know Molly would be more than happy to baby-sit, and Andromeda too. But Teddy can't keep being shifted around."

Harry sighed, slowly becoming defeated. "I know, I know. I knew it was a long shot, but the alternative-"

Hermione nodded, "I know. I don't like the idea anymore than you do. But, it's Andromeda that will still be raising him," She rationalised, "and her living with Narcissa isn't permanent after all – How long will it be for?" she asked, suddenly realising she didn't actually know.

"Two years." Harry stated grimly.

"Two years?!" Hermione almost shouted.

Harry nodded, "Complete house arrest for six months, then after that she has free reign to an extent – she has to be within her home between the hours of 8pm and 8am, still under the supervision of Andromeda. If she breaks these rules – without express permission from the Minister, she will be placed back in Azkaban to serve a sentence of ten years."

"Two years. Teddy will be living there for two years. He'll take his first steps in Malfoy's library, his first words will be heard by him not us. No. No I don't like that."

"I don't like it either, Hermione. But you just shot down my alternative, you can't have it both ways."

"I know, I know." Hermione conceded with a frustrated sigh, "I'm sorry."

"And the other day, you said yourself, he seems different now. When you told me about your conversation the night after the battle," He reminded her. "You said you didn't believe he was all bad, and I'm inclined to agree. I think Lucius was the real negative influence in his life, and once he's removed we could see a very different person." Harry pointed out.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I want him raising our Godchild!" Hermione hissed, trying to keep her voice quiet so as not to disturb Teddy, who was finally drifting off.

"Let's sleep on it," suggested Harry, knowing they would never reach a conclusion tonight. "We don't need to make this decision now. It can wait until the morning. Until we actually know what decision Andromeda and Malfoy have come to. We're both tired; we'll just keep going round in circles. And I don't want us to end up arguing." He added with a smile.

Hermione smiled back and nodded. "You're right, we need to think on it more. And like you said, we don't even know the final decision yet. Until we do, let's not worry too much."

* * *

**_A/N: Okay, so maybe Victoria is still a little bit deluded, and still seems a little bit cold, but her heart is in the right place...sort of._**

**_Let me know what you think, I love to hear your feedback. The next chapter is already written, it just needs a final edit, so I will post it within a couple of hours :)_**

**_xBx_**


	6. Chapter 6: The Aldens Return

**_A/N: As promised, a super-speedy update. _  
**

**_I would just like to make a point of saying, I realise I make a lot of references to drinking alcohol - a lot of wine with dinner, and a lot of whiskey after dinner. I am in no way trying to glamourise, or promote, excessive drinking, in no way are the characters in the story heavy drinkers. They simply have a glass of wine with dinner, and a small glass of whiskey as an occasional nightcap. I know I've made reference to an extensive wine & liquor collection in the Granger household - the Grangers often host lavish dinner parties so a lot of wine is often necessary (Think Downton Abbey style, different wine for a different course - the wine is poured but hardly drank lol). These are the habits which Hermione will have grown up with, therefore she has passed them onto Harry, unwittingly, when she moved into Grimmauld Place with him at the beginning of the story._**

**_That's all, now you can read in peace :)_**

**_xBx_**

* * *

**~ Chapter 6: The Return of the Aldens & Lucius' Trial ~**

The next morning Hermione and Harry were in the Drawing room, waiting for the arrival of Andromeda. the pair were sat on the floor with Teddy, who was lying on the rug trying to catch a snitch Harry had conjured, which was fluttering just out of reach of Teddy's tiny grasp.

A little after eleven, the doorbell sounded (no longer accompanied by the scream of Mrs Black, thanks to Hermione's clever suggestion of modifying the muffliato charm and placing it upon the portrait so that it couldn't hear any noise.) and Andromeda was brought up to where the trio were sat.

"Already training my Grandson to be a seeker, Harry?" Andromeda asked with a smile.

Harry grinned, "Well someone has to carry on my legacy in the Gryffindor team, it's never too early to start training."

Hermione chuckled and shook her head at Harry's half-feigned conceit, while Andromeda raised her eyebrows.

"And who says he'll be in Gryffindor? His mother was an asset to Hufflepuff, and I myself was a Slytherin, he could end up anywhere."

Hermione laughed and stood up, "Any house will be privileged to have him." She said smoothly, going over to give Andromeda a hug. "How was the dinner?" she asked.

Andromeda laughed and took a seat on the couch, "It was, interesting." She started slowly; Hermione's eyebrows knitted together in a frown, and Harry's raised in silent questioning.

Andromeda laughed at the response, and continued, "I've never met my nephew before, and he wasn't what I expected. He's certainly changed it seems – he's not at all what I expected from what you have told me about him at any rate. This past year has changed him a great deal I believe, he said as much himself. He's very aware of what his past behaviour has been, and seems anxious to change. But Draco is not the part of the subject you really wish to discuss is he?" she finished knowingly.

"Andie," Harry called her familiarly, "What living arrangements did you decide upon? We need to know."

"After discussing it with Draco, I've decided it would be more practical for me to move to Malfoy Manor. Narcissa will wish to return to her home, and my house lacks the lavish provisions which she has become accustomed to." Andromeda admitted.

Harry nodded, resigned. Hermione took a deep, calming breath and turned her face away from Andromeda to become fully absorbed with Teddy, as if no one else was even in the room.

"I didn't think either of you would be entirely happy with me taking Teddy there" Andromeda continued, hoping to rationalise her decision and quell Harry and Hermione's anxieties at the same time.

"But she is my sister, they are my family, and without the disruptive influence of Lucius and Bellatrix, Narcissa is likely to be a completely different person. Harry, you were at her trial, you saw her sincerity." She urged, hoping he would understand.

"I did, Andie." He conceded, "But that's not the issue for me. The issue is Draco, and the house itself. I've only been there once, a few months ago – I didn't see much of it, I admit – but, from what I did see, it's not exactly a nurturing environment. And I sure as hell do not want Draco Malfoy influencing my Godson."

"I understand, and let me clarify some things on that score. Firstly, Draco isn't going to be there-"

"For two years?" Harry interrupted

"Let me finish." Andromeda begged, calmly. "He won't be there for the first year at least, he will be returning to Hogwarts. He needs his qualifications more than anyone – he wants a career in the Ministry and he needs top grades, because he has his name to work against. He has his work cut out for him to try and get the public to judge him on his own merits and ignore the Malfoy legacy. And once he graduates, it is likely he will rent a small place of his own in London, while he finds his feet in the Ministry." Andie explained, repeating some of the conversation she and her nephew had shared the previous evening.

"With regards to the house," Andromeda continued, "a few months ago, when you were there, the place was housing Voldemort and his Death Eaters – the décor has improved greatly since then I would imagine, though it's still a little dark and unwelcoming at present, I admit. But look at this place!" She gestured around her, to make emphasise the point she was about to make.

"I remember this house from when I was a child, and the current décor of Malfoy Manor is in the same line that this place used to be like. But look at the change you've managed to accomplish here. I can accomplish the same there. In two months time Narcissa wont even recognise the place, I will turn it into a proper home, a welcoming home with a positive environment – I wouldn't want my Grandson raised in anything less." Andromeda assured them.

Hermione sighed, "I know you only ever have Teddy's best interest at heart, but him living in that house, after what happened-" Hermione trailed off, unable to voice the rest of her thoughts.

"I won't be moving there immediately, not until the place is fully ready. You and Harry can come by and look at the place, see the difference, if that will help you feel better about all this" Andromeda offered.

Hermione looked up sadly, "I don't know if I could ever step back in that house, especially not so soon."

Harry put his hand on Hermione's arm, "The best thing for Teddy is stability" He repeated her words from the previous night, "Stability means staying with Andromeda. And look what we did to this place in little under a fortnight, imagine what she can do in two months."

"And Teddy will be solely under my care, as will Narcissa – the negative influences of her past will not even come close to Teddy, I promise."

Hermione smiled, "I don't suppose we have a choice really, I'll be at Hogwarts too come September, so there's no alternative I can propose. It's not like Harry and I can raise Teddy as our own, is it?" she asked rhetorically.

Andromeda smiled, "After the year you two have had, the last thing you need is to have your lives disrupted with a child," she said kindly.

Hermione frowned, and turned to look at Andromeda, "Is that your polite way of saying you don't believe Harry and I would be fit parents to our Godson. Your daughter and Son-in-law named Harry and I as Godparents, they trusted us to raise their son should anything happen to them, they trusted our abilities, why should you question them?" Hermione asked, her temper flaring.

Andromeda held up her hands defensively, "That's not what I meant. I couldn't think of any two people who would raise Teddy better than you two. But as you said yourself, Hermione, you won't even be here for a lot of time. And with Harry starting out at the Ministry, you're lives are going to be so chaotic," she trailed off, and Hermione began to look a little ashamed of herself for snapping.

"I'm sorry, Andromeda, I didn't mean to bite your head off. I'm just mad at myself for committing to Hogwarts so quickly." She admitted.

"It's fine, dear. And I promise to keep Teddy away from the influence of Draco Malfoy as much as I can."

"Can we at least take care of Teddy until you have the Manor sorted out?" Hermione asked, "I appreciate I will have to get used to the idea of him staying there for a while, but I would at least like to keep him out of that place until you work your magic on it."

Andromeda smiled, "Certainly. In fact I was going to ask you if you would. It's not particularly bad at the moment, but as Harry said, it's not particularly nurturing."

Andromeda remained for another hour, talking genially about her plans for Malfoy Manor. Hermione eventually returned to her parents, after having lunch with Harry, slightly dejected, though feeling better about the situation after the full reassurances of Andromeda. Hermione found her parents in the kitchen, discussing a menu for an upcoming dinner they seemed to be arranging.

"Oh, good, you're home. How was your night?" Her mother said, hearing Hermione descending the stairs, and then frowned when she saw her daughter's face, "Is everything alright, Darling?"

Hermione smiled, "It's a long story, but I'm ok." She assured them, but seeing their quizzical looks, she elaborated, "I have a Godson, and his name is Teddy Lupin. His parents died in the battle at Hogwarts, he remained with his grandmother, she looked after him a lot, while Remus and Dora were working for the order, but her living arrangements are changing, and Harry and I – Harry is Godfather, we've had to discuss the arrangements. It's not ideal, the house isn't one I want him to grow up in, but it will only be for two years, and Andromeda is a wonderful parent. And Harry and I can hardly raise the child, I'm returning to Hogwarts so I'm not going to be around, and Harry is still finding his feet. It'll all work out." Hermione smiled, then laughed at her parents' astounded looks.

"Like I said, a lot has changed, and I'll fill you in thoroughly at a later date. What's the dinner you're planning?" Hermione asked, changing the subject.

Victoria shook herself back to the present. "Monday night, we're having the Aldens over for dinner, they want to hear all about our trip, and it's high time you and Richard started reacquainting yourselves."

Hermione didn't even bother to try and argue, she simply rolled her eyes and hopped onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

"And what exactly are you going to tell them about your trip?" Hermione asked.

Her father grinned and pulled a map in front of Hermione, "We'll smooth out the finer details tomorrow, but for now we have sailed out of Plymouth, and followed that route –" Anthony indicated the red line he had drawn through the Atlantic Oceans, around Africa into the Indian Ocean continuing on to the Tasman sea, finally stopping in Sydney.

"We'll say we stopped at places which one of us has already been to, so we know what we're talking about, but we'll keep the places minimal – avoiding the big cities and tourist traps. We'll say we wanted to be as far away from civilisation as we could possibly get, just enjoying the serenity of the ocean, only going on shore when it was absolutely necessary" Anthony finished.

"And when people ask about photos?" Hermione asked, wanting to see just how well thought out their story was, wondering if this simple snag had crossed their minds.

Apparently it had, as Victoria grinned and answered, "You're father, in an idiotic moment of severe clumsiness, dropped the camera off the side of the boat about six months into the trip. So the pictures we had already taken, and any others we wanted to take are currently sitting at the bottom of the Indian Ocean." Victoria finished somewhat smugly.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh and nod in approval. "I admit, that does sound like something you would do, dad. As long as you two stick to the same script, you'll do marvellously." Hermione commended. "And now, can I help you with anything? For Monday?" She asked, resigning herself to her fate.

Monday arrived, bringing with it some semblance of normality to the Granger household, the staff that had taken a year's leave returned to the house, and Hermione's parents went back to work, Hermione spent the day with Teddy at the Weasleys, while Andromeda began making a lone start on the revamp of Malfoy Manor as Draco was once again at the ministry, this time sitting in on his father's trial. At 5 O'clock, after Andromeda had called by to pick up Teddy, Hermione returned to her home and began to prepare herself for dinner.

Hermione had insisted on it being a casual affair and dressed in dark skinny jeans and a light, long-sleeved, checked shirt keeping the sleeves unrolled to cover the scars on her arms. Under this, she donned a plain strap top, allowing for the top buttons of the shirt to remain open, without displaying an obscene amount of cleavage. She finished the ensemble with a pair of ankle boots and wondered just how long she would last in heels, havening not worn a pair in over a year.

She descended from her room, heading for the drawing room, she had just poured herself a glass of champagne when the doorbell rang, and minutes later the Aldens were shown into the room.

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the sight of them; she had always been a favourite with Richard's parents, long before Richard and her became a couple, and likewise they had been favourites with her.

First into the room was John: he was of a height with Hermione's father, though slightly less athletic, and an extremely positive person, happiness simply poured from him, and you only had to be in the same room as him for five minutes before your mood lifted higher than it had been before. Hermione couldn't remember him having anything but a smile on his face.

"The prodigals return!" Her exclaimed as he crossed the threshold, going straight to Anthony shaking his hand and pulling him into a one armed hug. "You look good, Tony. That year off has wiped years off your age."

He turned to Victoria, and smiled, "Victoria, you look as beautiful as ever." He said kissing her cheek, Hermione's mother laughed,

"And you're still a charmer, I see, John. Glad to see that hasn't changed." Victoria responded smilingly.

John then turned to Hermione, as his wife began her own greetings with Hermione's parents, closely followed by Richard.

"Hermione, Hermione," John spoke fondly, taking Hermione's hands. Hermione couldn't help but smile.

"John, how are you?" she beamed.

"Wonderful dear. I can't tell you how glad I am, we all are, to know you're back again. I'll admit you had us worried. Richard told us about your goodbye, he said you seemed out of sorts." He said quietly, and Hermione's smile faltered.

"It's a long story, but I'm back now, I'm home. Ready to get back on track." She tried to convince him, or perhaps she was trying to convince herself.

John pulled her into a rib-crushing hug, "Glad to hear it."

John released her and stepped aside, striking up conversation with Anthony, and Elizabeth Alden came to Hermione's side.

"Hermione, Darling." She beamed, pulling her future Daughter-in-law into a loving hug, "How good to see you again."

"And you Liz," Hermione replied with feeling, before she was released, and the next second she was faced with her fiancé.

Richard Alden stood over her, a head taller than her, though a little shorter than Harry, she thought. His physique was as good as she remembered, not too much muscle, but his strength was clearly defined through the shirt he wore and Hermione couldn't help but smile remembering the six-pack she knew was hidden under there. His hair was cut short and was a delicious mixture of brown tones that were only slightly lighter than those of her hair. He looked down at her with hazel eyes filled with happiness at seeing her again, and Hermione couldn't help but grin at seeing him again – despite the impending engagement that she didn't want, Richard was still one of her best muggle friends, they may have blurred the lines of friendship in the past, becoming considerably more than friends for a long time, but their romance was built upon on a solid foundation, and Hermione realised in that second, she had actually missed him.

In that initial moment of seeing him again, her mind involuntarily went back to the last time they had been in the same room together.

_(1 year earlier)_

_Hermione was in her parents study, putting the finishing touches to the generic emails she had written, setting the automatic sending details, making sure the right sets would be sent out at the correct time. She heard footsteps coming through the front door she had left open, treading cautiously into the entrance hall._

"_Hermione?" she heard Richard's voice call hesitatingly._

"_Just a second," she called back, her voice quivered slightly, and she cleared her throat to try and steady her emotions. She had sent her parents off early that morning, their life packed up and their memories modified, on their way to Australia to begin again. In a few hours time she would be taking part in rescuing Harry from the Dursley's, well aware of the dangers she was facing in the coming months, and still emotional from the happenings of this morning, her nerves and emotions were already fraught. She turned off the computer and left the room; acutely aware the she was turning off the lights and shutting the door for possibly the final time._

_Richard was sat waiting for her, at the foot of the main staircase, his brow knitted in confusion and concern. He rose when she came from the study, and walked toward her, _

_"Hermione, what's going on? My parents got an email last night telling them your parents were taking off on a round the world trip, right out of the blue. Then you message me this morning, telling me you're disappearing as well. You've been acting strange since you got back from school a few weeks ago, what the hell is happening?" Richard demanded._

_Hermione took a deep breath, "I am going. Not with my parents though, they've already gone, they left this morning." She started to explain. Richard came up to her and put his hands on her arms._

"_How long will you be gone for? Where are you going?" he asked, looking down at her in concern. "Hermione, I'm worried about you, there's something big you're not telling me, I know it."_

_Hermione raised her face to look him in the eyes, trying to keep her emotions in check, "I don't know how long it will take, I would like to say a year, but it could possibly be longer. I can't tell you where I'm going, I don't even know that myself, yet. And i don't know when it's going to end.."_

"_Hermione what is going on? You're starting to scare me now." Richard said, his grip tightening slightly._

_Hermione raised her hands to his shoulders, "I'm sorry I can't tell you. I wish I could, I really do, but I can't - legally I can't, and" she laughed bitterly, "You wouldn't believe me, even if I did tell you. But more than that, it would be dangerous for you to know." Hermione dropped her eyes, "I've said too much to you already, I shouldn't have even told you this much."_

_Richard dropped his hands, took a step back, and ran his hands through his hair in frustration, "I was going to propose to you this summer. And I know you know that; given both our parents are pushing for it. But despite that our parents are pushing this forward, I was happy to propose to you, I **am** happy to propose to you," he corrected, "Because I love you. I love you Hermione. Given that, don't I deserve to know the truth?" He asked passionately._

_Hermione ran her hands through her hair, mirroring his frustration, she then stepped up to, put her hands on his face and made him look her in the eyes as she spoke, "That is all the more reason for me to keep you in the dark," She explained, imploring him, with the sincerity in her eyes, to believe her. "Your ignorance will keep you safe. Trust me, please." She begged. Hermione waited a moment, staring intently into his eyes, until Richard gave the tiniest of nods; she let out a sigh of relief, gave a small smile, then stood up on her toes and crushed her lips against his, aiming to pour her goodbye into this one action, knowing full well this could be the last time she would ever see him._

_Richard responded instantly, wrapping his arms around her tight as he pulled her closer to him, deepening the kiss. When they finally broke apart, Richard rested his forehead against hers, waiting for his breath to even out, waiting for Hermione to speak first._

_Finally, Hermione spoke, "I'm sorry, I have to go. You have to go. I need to shut this place up properly I need to make sure I have everything." She looked up at Richard again, "You need to go." She reiterated._

_As she watched, Richard's eyes seemed to go blank, all emotion wiped from them, "So this is goodbye?" he asked, numbly._

"_I'm sorry," was all Hermione could say. Richard nodded, then headed for the door. _

"_I just hope it's not forever," Hermione said quietly as he walked away; she kept her back to the door, so she had no idea if he had heard her. She didn't notice him pause at the threshold and glance back, nor did she hear his whispered, "Yeah, me to."_

…

"Hey stranger" Hermione said with a shy smile, as Richard approached her, trying to hide her nerves.

"Hey yourself. I thought you'd abandoned me for good," Richard partly joked, returning the smile.

Hermione laughed nervously, then said quietly, "I told you I'd be gone for a year. And I also told you I'd be back. And here I am."

Richard nodded thoughtfully, "But you didn't seem too convinced at the time, did you?" He reminded her.

Hermione chewed her lip, "Does it matter? It's done now. And I'm back sooner than I anticipated."

Richard smiled, "Do I at least get to know where you went? what you had to do?" He asked, though he seemed to already know the answer.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and was the verge of telling him no, when she decided to change tack, and answered with a smirk: "I went camping," it was after all the truth.

Richard raised his eyebrows, surprised at the lack of 'no' he had expected, "You? Camping?" he clarified.

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Hermione asked in indignation, causing Richard to laugh,

"I guess it's not, but I thought hotels were more your forté, that's all." Richard shrugged his shoulders.

"Now how about the truth?" He asked, thoroughly unconvinced with Hermione's half-truth.

Hermione laughed, "Maybe they are, but despite your conjectures, that is the truth, I did go camping. I went all over Britain in fact, just a couple of friends and I, and our tent, enjoying the wilderness. I'm not afraid roughing it every now and then."

Richard smirked at the last comment, "Ohh, so miss Hermione Granger likes it rough every now and then, does she?" He said, nodding in approval, "I'll drink to that." He winked.

"Oh good god!" Hermione exclaimed at his twisting of her words, slapping his arm and shaking her head, but laughing all the same, "You never change." She scolded.

Richard laughed and the pair bantered for a while longer, but finally fell into a lull.

Their fathers were now talking business and their mothers were talking of everything but. Not particularly wanting to join either conversation, nor wanting to fall into an uncomfortable silence, Hermione suggested a game of pool.

"I haven't played in over a year, but I'm pretty sure I can still kick your ass. How about it?" She challenged confidently.

"Oh, you are so on," Richard accepted, coming to life at the suggestion of competition. Both were equally competitive individuals, and both equally good sports, and many an evening had been spent in healthy competition around the pool table. Richard stood up and handed her his glass, "You fill up our drinks and I'll go rack 'em up."

Richard left the room and went across the hall to the billiards room, while Hermione went to top up her champagne, and pour Richard another measure of Scotch. Victoria joined her in a moment, and when Hermione silently topped up her glass she asked, "Is everything alright? Where did Richard rush off to?" Clearly, Victoria was worried that the reunion wasn't going as smoothly as she hoped.

Hermione smiled, "We're fine. He's in the Billiard room, setting up for pool. I'm going to go kick his ass." she explained.

Victoria frowned, "I wish you wouldn't speak like that, it's not ladylike. I don't like what Hogwarts has done to you."

"I apologise" Hermione placated, "Make sure to tell us when dinner is served."

The game of pool started off to a rapid succession of shots, but as Hermione relaxed, the conversation with Richard began to flow more easily and they began to spend more time reminiscing and less time focusing on their game.

During one of Hermione's shots they began talking about Melissa, Hermione's oldest girl friend, laughing about something the three of them had done one summer a couple of years back, when Hermione and Richard had first become romantically involved. When Hermione missed her second shot, she straightened, took a drink from her glass, and then asked:

"Have you seen much of Melissa, this year? I haven't contacted her yet, but I really should."

She noticed Richard shift in slight discomfort, and give more focus to his shot than he had previously shown, "Yeah, I've seen her…a little." he admitted with an attempt at nonchalance...a poor attempt.

Hermione frowned, fully concentrating on Richards profile,

"Oh yeah? How is she? She good?" she asked, trying not to smirk too much at Richards apparent discomfort.

Richard cleared his throat, and shifted uncomfortably again: "Yeah, she's good." He said, offhand, lining up to take his shot.

Hermione couldn't help but smirk now, she had known Richard too long and could read him like a book, "Uhuh," she said, leaning one hand on the table.

She paused a second, then: "You've been sleeping with her." She stated, timing her words to perfection, just as Richard took his shot. His jolt of surprise at this accurate accusation caused him to accidentally send the cue ball spinning off the table, to Hermione's snort of derision.

Richard stood bolt up, looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights, "I didn't mean…. I never said…" he stuttered.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, "You didn't have to say: it's written all over you face. Now pick up your ball and take your shot again. Man-whore." She added with a smirk, Richard shot her a dark look as he went to retrieve the cue ball and set up for a second attempt at his shot. From Hermione's tone and continual smirk, he gathered he wasn't in any immediate trouble, but he wasn't sure she would forgive him just yet.

"I'm not a man-whore. It was only once-" Hermione laughed in disbelief, "Alright twice,"

Richard caught sight of Hermione's raised eyebrows and hand on her hip: he never could get away with lying to her.

"Alright fine, it happened a number of occasions, a couple of months ago." Richard finally admitted.

"But you had left," He defended himself, becoming suddenly serious, and speaking with feeling,

"And when you said goodbye, it seemed as if you were saying goodbye for a lot longer than one year. I didn't know what was going on with you, but it sounded final, I don't think you expected to be here right now. I never heard from you since then, I had no way of contacting you, it was like you fell off the planet, and it scared me. I was worried, I was hurt and I was angry."

Richard's outburst wiped the smirk from Hermione's face, and she chewed her lip, standing in silence as Richard took his shot. When he straitened up, Hermione looked him in the eyes and apologised, genuinely feeling regret and remorse at how she had left things between them. Once again, she wished she had been able to tell him the truth about who she really was, the one thing she hated doing, more than anything else, was lying.

"I'm sorry, you're right, I did just take off and I didn't expect to be back so soon. Truthfully, I didn't know if I would make it back at all. So, I'm not angry with you: I guess we were on a break. I'm sorry for what I put you through." She told him truthfully.

Richard nodded at the table, "Your shot," he commented.

Hermione took her shot and missed because she was watching Richard out the corner of her eye, who was watching her intently, clearly thinking carefully over her words.

"So, you're not pissed off, that I slept with your best friend?" He clarified.

Hermione shrugged, "Like I said, we were on a break, and you had no idea when, or even if, I was coming back: like you said, our goodbye was pretty final, how were you to know we'd be standing here now? How was I to know? And hey," she added with a sly grin, trying to lighten the conversation again, "I couldn't expect you to stay faithful to me forever in my absence. Your turn." She added hoping to move the conversation along.

Richards eyes narrowed, but a small smile played on his lips, "_you_ slept with someone." He accused, "You cheated on me also."

The smile told Hermione she wasn't in any real trouble, but she took mock offence all the same, "How dare you accuse me so. It's not very gentleman like behaviour to speak to a lady so." She said feigning indignation, "And we we're on a break, so technically it wouldn't be cheating. Your go." She added.

Richard threw his head back and laughed at her sudden airs, "Come on, I'm not exactly a true gentleman am I? And I assume you're using the term 'lady' in the loosest sense possible?" He joked.

"Jerk," Hermione muttered, hitting him playfully with her cue.

"You still haven't answered my question," Richard pointed out, moving around the table to line up his next shot.

"Ask me know questions, I'll thee no lies." Hermione smirked playfully, following Richard around the table to judge his shot.

Richard smiled, and shook his head, "wench" he muttered leaning over to take his shot.

Hermione laughed, "philanderer" she retorted playfully, giving him a nudge, causing him to send his ball off course.

The pair continued to banter until summoned for dinner, neither mad at the other for their lack of faithfulness, as both believed at the time the other was out of their lives forever. They were good friends, and Hermione still found him highly attractive, but the spark they once had was gone – at least for her it was gone, she couldn't say the same for him. Hermione still couldn't escape the fact that she was not in love with this man; she couldn't be honest and open with him, the way she believed she should be with her future husband. How could she marry someone who didn't know the real her? As she preceded Richard into the dining room, she silently cursed the Statute of Secrecy for making this situation more complicated than it needed to be.

###

Monday found Draco once again in the depths of the Ministry, in the depressing dungeons of the courtroom. His father's trial commenced that morning, and had been going all day, with the exception of an hour and a half recess for lunch. So far the trial had followed a similar track to his mothers, however due to Lucius' deeper involvement, the trial was running longer due to the amount of crimes he was being tried for. The morning was spent detailing Lucius' involvement with the Death Eaters prior to Draco's birth, before Voldemort's first downfall.

After detailing his involvement, Kingsley asked, "And how is it you escaped arrest at this time?"

Lucius had the decency to look a little ashamed, "I claimed I was under the imperious curse." He stated, and then taking a deep breath he fully admitted the circumstances.

"Of course, my involvement was so deep that this excuse failed to convince everyone, so I used the long-standing family name, and dipped into personal assets, to help convince those who mattered that my defence was valid."

"In other words, you bribed them to let you walk free?" another member of the Wizengamot clarified.

"I did yes. Prior to the Dark Lord's downfall, I was already well placed in the Ministry: I gave regular donations to certain departments, helped supplement the cost of certain projects. I also made generous donations to the hospital and school. After my arrest, I called in favours with a lot of high ranking officials: I reminded them that without my money, they would not have been where they were."

It was here that the court adjourned for lunch, but when the courtroom was once again in session, the trial moved into the offences committed since Voldemort's return.

"As you may have been made aware, Mr Malfoy, you're wife stood trial last week, and we have already heard her account of events." Kingsley explained. "And as you were involved in everything she was, it naturally follows that any denial of your involvement and a plead of not-guilty to the following charges laid against you will be futile." He warned.

Lucius nodded soberly, "I understand. And I have no wish to deny the charges." Lucius continued on his narrative, fully detailing his involvement with the Death Eaters since the Quidditch World Cup – "I have to admit, the torture of the Roberts Family was my idea, and mine alone: My wife was reluctant to join in the spectacle, but I insisted. The other members of the group were more easily persuaded." He explained.

Lucius then went on to give an account of the night Voldemort returned, a brief detailing of the events, which unfolded in the graveyard, all the while shifting uncomfortably and continually glancing up at Harry Potter, who was watching him intently, betraying no emotions to the narrative.

Draco knew little of what had happened that night, all he knew was that Potter had been there, that the Dark Lord returned, there was some sort of duel, and Cedric Diggory died. His father had kept especially quiet on those details; at least he had done so in front of his son.

Lucius continued his narrative uninterrupted, detailing Voldemort's various plans: The details of his reasons for lying low the first year of his return, the reasons for breaking into the department of Mysteries,

"The Dark Lord wanted a prophecy that had been made about himself and Harry Potter, and that apparently contained the knowledge of his demise. The prophecy, while it was retrieved, was never heard – it was destroyed during our fight with Harry Potter and the other students who attended with him. And then the Order arrived, and we were arrested for trespassing. I then spent a year in Azkaban, I don't know what went on while I was inside and I wasn't told of much when I was released. All I know is that, since the night of his return, the Dark Lord had been carefully planning to infiltrate the Ministry and Hogwarts. Both of which he accomplished before he broke me out of Azkaban, but from that time on I was out of favour with the Dark Lord – he used my home as a base, but his contempt of my family and myself was openly known."

Lucius continued to give an account of the goings on taking place in his home, detailing the frequent – and often long – absences of Voldemort, and what transpired in these times.

"This past year my family and I have been doing all we can to simply survive the Dark Lord's regime. By the time we were taken to Hogwarts, all we wanted was to find our son and escape. Where we were going to go we were unsure of – we all had our own safe-houses, which we could have hidden from the Order and the Aurors, should it have been required. But finding somewhere safe from the Dark Lord was nigh on impossible, but we had to try. In the end, the measure was deemed unnecessary, Harry Potter finally defeated the Dark Lord, and his regime was at an end. We were safe."

Lucius finished; a brief silence followed this final statement, a silence swiftly broken by Kingsley Shacklebolt, ever professional:

"We will require you to submit a list of names of all the Death Eaters who served with you during the regime; we will need as many names as you can provide, detailing how far into the regime they were, whether or not they were branded with the Dark Mark, and most importantly whether or not they engaged in the regime under their own free will. Do you comply with this request?" Kingsley asked formally.

Lucius nodded, and answered with the utmost sincerity: "Of course. I will be happy to help you in any way I can. I fully repent my involvement with the Death Eaters, and I will do all I can to help you find any Death Eater's eluding justice."

Many of the Wizengamot couldn't help but show open surprise at such a statement, and even Draco was shocked at his father's willingness to assist, he exchanged a brief look of incredulity with Blaise, before turning his attention back to the wizengamot.

Kingsley nodded, then glanced at his watch. "Court is now adjourned until the Wizengamot reaches a verdict. As we have run over time, we will return the verdict on the Morrow, where the court will reconvene at 10 am, at which time Lucius Malfoy will give us a complete list of names of all those involved in Tom Riddle's Regime. Mr Malfoy, you will now be escorted to a holding cell below the courtroom where you will spend the night, under constant supervision."

Lucius rose silently from the chair in the centre of room, and was escorted away. Kingsley then turned to the Wizengamot; "We will reconvene here tomorrow morning at 8:30am to discuss the day's proceedings ad reach a suitable verdict. Court Dismissed."

As the crowd began to disperse around them, Draco leaned back in his seat and let out a long breath, then looked across at Blaise,

"Did he sound sincere to you?" He asked.

Blaise shrugged, "Yeah, he did. But it's Lucius; he's an expert at feigned sincerity. How many times has he wheedled his way out of things like this?" he pointed out.

"My thoughts exactly." Draco muttered darkly. "The question is, will the Wizengamot see through it?"

Again, Blaise shrugged, "No idea. But we won't know until tomorrow, will we?" he said in rhetoric.

"Hmm" Draco responded, looking up at the Wizengamot thoughtfully, paying particular attention to Potter in conversation with Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt.

After a few moments of speculation Draco jumped up, "Come on, lets wait outside." He commanded to Blaise.

Blaise frowned, but followed, as Draco made his way out, and stood about in the hallway, waiting for the Wizengamot to emerge.

"What exactly are we waiting for?" Blaise ventured after a few minutes.

"Potter." Draco said simply, inviting no further questions. Blaise simply sighed and leaned against the wall, a little further away from the door.

Eventually, Potter made his way out of the courtroom, Weasley following close behind, and Draco called over to him.

"Potter, can I have a word?" He asked politely, not a trace of hostility.

Harry nodded, and turned to Ron, handing him a pile of papers, "Do me a favour and take these back to the house for me, I'll follow you in five."

Ron nodded, muttered "No problem, Mate. See you in a few."

Harry disengaged himself from the throng and came over to where Draco and Blaise were standing patiently.

"Something wrong?" Harry asked, matching Draco's civility.

"Not really, I was just wondering, how things are looking, verdict wise?" He asked cautiously.

Harry frowned, "You should know as well as anyone, I can't discuss it with you."

Draco held up his hands, "I know. I just want to know if there is anything you can tell me. I want you to understand," he added hastily, "I'm not about to try and plea for you to go easy on him. I think we can all agree Azkaban will be welcoming him back for a period of time. I was more wondering about the length of said period of time." Draco enquired honestly.

Harry sighed, glanced over his shoulder to make sure he wouldn't be overheard, and turned back to Draco, "You're right, he will be going back to Azkaban for a period – he pleaded guilty so he has to." Harry explained.

"The Wizengamot haven't discussed anything in detail yet, that will be done tomorrow morning, but I think it will depend on how sincere your father was when he offered to help us by naming the others involved. If he agrees to help us locate the Death Eaters evading justice and if his assistance proves fruitful, chances are his sentence could be reduced."

"Reduced to what? And from what? What will the initial sentence be?" Draco prodded further.

Harry frowned again, "I've already said more than I really should. As to that, I don't know yet, not until we discuss it tomorrow. But the initial sentence will probably be pretty hefty – he's not popular in the ministry anymore. It's going to be very different for a Malfoy, around here, from now on." Harry warned tactfully.

Draco smiled ruefully, "Yeah, I figured as much. But, thank you for telling me all that. My mother and I have a real chance at turning our image, our life, around over the next year or so. And I know that it's going to be hard, but it will be a lot easier with Lucius out of the picture." Draco admitted.

Harry raised his eyebrows at Draco's calling his father by his given name, but refrained from comment.

Instead, he simply said, "I will see you tomorrow."

* * *

_**A/N: There we have it, we finally got to see Richard, I want to know what you're first impressions are - he will be appearing a lot more, he's set to be an interesting character and I'm looking forward to writing more scenes with him. **_

_**And the story will be moving forward at a little bit of a quicker pace from now on. We are currently only into the beginning of July, but in a few more chapters we'll finally be making it back to Hogwarts and the Dramione will finally get to begin - I realise I'm making you wait a while for it, but it will happen, and it will be worth the wait.**_

_**I'll get working on the next chapters later this evening, and I'll hopefully have an update for you sometime in the next couple of weeks :)**_

_**Please leave a review, let me know what you think - and please tell me if there is something majorly wrong :)**_

_**xBx**_


	7. Chapter 7: Moving Forward

**_A/N: Finally! I am back with the updates. I've been working on the next three chapters simultaneously, which is why it's taken a little while. Quick recap: Lucius & Narcissa have had their trials, and Hermione has finally been reunited with her 'fiancé'. The story will be moving along a little bit quicker now (we're currently in the beginning of July), we will be making it to Hogwarts in a few chapters more, where the real Dramione can begin. _  
**

**_Thank you to everyone who has read so far, and thank you for sticking with me, I hope you all enjoy the next few chapters_**

**_xBx_**

* * *

**~ Chapter 7: Moving Forward ~**

Draco apparated into his bedroom, after witnessing his father's sentencing: Lucius had been handed a sentence of a minimum of ten years in Azkaban, however, he would be given a reprieve if his information pertaining to the whereabouts of the remaining notorious Death Eaters, still on the loose, proved factual and useful. However, should his information prove to be a set-up of some sort, intending to lead the Aurors into potential life threatening situation, he could kiss goodbye to his freedom for life.

If, on the other hand, Lucius proved himself a friend to the Ministry, and helped round up the last of the Death Eaters, he would be out when the last one was behind bars – that could be in ten years, or it could be in five. Draco would just have to wait and see.

As Draco removed his tie and flung it over his bedpost, he noticed an envelope resting at the foot of the bed, picking it up he recognised the writing as that of Pansy Parkinson. Without bothering to open it, he tossed it into his fire and summoned one of his house elves. Seconds later, one of the elves belonging to the house appeared.

"You called for me, Master Malfoy." The elf stated. "We didn't know you had already returned from the Ministry."

"I just got home." Draco explained, "Blaise will be joining me for lunch, if it's not too much trouble. Sorry for the short notice," Draco added - he had noticed at Hogwarts that the elves were happy to do things for Hermione Granger and Harry Potter, and spoke rather highly of them. After seeing Hermione in the kitchens, and the way she spoke politely to them, though they were technically servants and beneath her, he wondered if this was the key to better service. Since his return to the manor, he had changed his tac of dealing with the elves, and to his surprise his theory was proven true.

"Not at all, sir. Would you like to eat in the dining room?" The elf asked, "Tinker and Mitzi can have it ready in moments."

"Oh, no. Don't go to any trouble. The usual in the drawing room will be more than fine." Draco assured the elf.

"Very good. Is there anything else I can do for Master?"

"No, … That's all, thank you."

The elf bowed and disappeared presumably back to the kitchen. Draco hung up his suit, and changed into something more comfortable before making his way down to the drawing room, where Blaise was already waiting for him.

"So that's it." Blaise said, as Draco entered, "All over. What do you do now?" He asked.

"Is that asked in rhetoric? Or are you genuinely wanting to know my plans for the future?" Draco asked dryly, as he took a seat.

Blaise shrugged, "A bit of both, I guess." He answered.

"Well, I believe this place is about to get a makeover – my Aunt Andromeda will be moving in, to keep an eye on my mother, when she's released. And then in September I return to Hogwarts, and try to change my social image." Draco outlined. "Other than that, I have no long term plans."

"So you answered your letter then?" Blaise asked,

"A while ago. Right after I spoke to you about it." Draco told him, then asked "What about you, what did you decide?"

"I'm not letting you go back without me," Blaise grinned, "I wasted most of my time last year, didn't learn a damn thing – didn't think I needed to. But now, I'm going to need my NEWTs, and I didn't learn enough last year to be able to do the summer school option. Plus," He added with a grin, "I'm not ready to give up Quidditch just yet."

Draco laughed, and shook his head, "Well enjoy it. I don't think I'll be going back on the team this year." He mused.

Blaise frowned, and Draco continued, "To be honest, seeking was never really my thing. I was probably more suited as a chaser. And don't get me wrong, I love the game, I like playing it." Draco shrugged, "I might see if I can opt in for a reserve," he said half-heartedly, "And train a few times. But this year, I really think I should just keep my head down, and keep out of people's way." He admitted.

Blaise grinned, and gave him a knowing look, "Yeah. Okay. Let's see how long that plan lasts."

###

As July progressed, Hermione continued in a comfortable summer routine: Her days were mostly spent with Teddy, often at the Burrow with Ginny, though sometimes with Andromeda at her own home, helping her with ideas for sprucing up Malfoy Manor. On the first occasion, Hermione couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm: Hermione had apparated outside the garden gate around mid morning a couple of weeks into June, and proceeded up the garden path. Andromeda was anticipating her arrival and the front door was left open, Hermione made her way inside.

"Andie? You home?" She called out.

"In the living room, Hermione, come on through." Came Andromeda's voice.

Hermione made her way to the voice, and saw Andromeda sat on her floor surrounded by colour wheels and fabric swatches, Hermione laughed at the sight – particularly the sight of Teddy clutching one of the swatches, which was a vibrant blue, within seconds of Hermione's entrance Teddy's hair emulated the colour he held in his hand.

"I thought you were intending to simply spruce up the Manor, not renovate the entire place." Hermione said as she made her way into the room.

Andromeda looked up with a guilty smile, "I know, but I couldn't resist. I've been over the house, and the place is fantastic – well it could be with the right touches. Sit down, I'd love your input."

Hermione took a deep breath, and sat down, "Alright, I'm not exactly thrilled about thinking about that place, but like you I'm a sucker when it comes to interior design." Hermione admitted.

Andromeda grinned, and pushed some papers toward Hermione, on which she had made notes concerning the principle rooms of the house. "I'm only focusing on the main rooms for now: our bedrooms, the nursery, dining room, sitting room, library - the most commonly used rooms. Currently they're all very 'Slytherin' – not that there's anything wrong with that" Andromeda added, in defence of her own House, "But there is only so much dark wood and emerald green a person can take."

Hermione laughed, as she looked through the pages, "True." She agreed, "I think green is good for the library, though, so I would definitely keep it in there." she commented, pulling out the corresponding sheet and tapping her wand to the colour patches on the page, ever so slightly. "I'm assuming it's rather large, and these colours always go well as a backdrop to a vast amount of books," she said, magically changing the colours. "Cushions and curtains are the key. And rugs," she added, "Make those lighter, and the room will lift."

"Perfect," Andromeda commended, her smile widening, and the pair whiled away the morning making lavish changes, and bouncing back ideas, all the while teddy played with the mountain of fabric samples, his hair constantly changing colour depending on what he was holding.

"Thank you, for doing this with me Hermione." Andromeda commented one afternoon, a couple of weeks later, after Hermione had spent the day with her – what had started as a one off thing the other week, had turned into a regular occurrence, Hermione keeping up with the progress of the house.

"I know it hasn't been easy for you," Andromeda continued, as the pair relaxed with a cup of tea, teddy napping in his bassinet, "Being so involved in this, over a house I know you don't really want to think about."

Hermione breathed deeply, and smiled, "It's strange, I thought it would be harder – but all these rooms we're talking about, I've never seen any of them, so I'm quite detached from them really. I just try not to thing about the place as a whole I guess. I can think of the rooms comfortably enough, as long as I avoid thinking too much about what happened in one of them."

Hermione unconsciously glanced at the scar on her left arm, now exposed since she had pushed up the sleeves of her shirt.

Andromeda, noticing this, commented quietly, "Is that where you got that scar?" she asked, "At the manor?"

Hermione looked up and nodded, "Yes," she answered quietly.

"Who-? If you don't mind me asking?" Andromeda asked politely.

Hermione bit her lip, "erm," could she really tell Andromeda that this was her sister's work?

Andromeda smiled knowingly, "You can say, it was Bella wasn't it?"

Hermione chuckled at her apparent transparency, "Yes, it was." She admitted.

"I'm very sorry. This must be especially difficult for you then. I'm well aware of how alike I look to Bellatrix." Andromeda commented sadly.

Hermione cocked her head to one side, and answered thoughtfully, "To a degree, yes. Your features are remarkably alike, almost identical. Yet you have a kindness, a true kindness, to you, which Bellatrix lacked. And that renders your appearance completely different." Hermione acknowledged, truthfully.

Andromeda laughed, and Hermione frowned in confusion, "What's so funny?" she asked,

Andromeda shook her head, still chuckling, "What you just said. Draco said the same thing, almost the same words in fact, to me the other day." She explained.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh in surprise, "Imagine that, Draco Malfoy and I actually agreeing on something, who would have thought."

Hermione began to spend more of her time at Grimmauld Place, now that her parents were settled back into their daily routine, Hermione could come and go as she pleased and now that she was able to apparate freely, it made splitting her time that much easier. She began to have dinner with Harry and Ron more often, often spending the night – though sometimes she was unable to avoided staying at her parents home as Richard had become as frequent a visitor as he ever used to be.

On the first occasion Hermione managed to extricate herself from her parents, to spend the night at Grimmauld Place, it was the second week in July, a few days after Hermione's first morning at Andromeda's house, and Hermione had a lot catch up on. The trials were well under way, and the Malfoys had proved to be a valuable asset to the Wizengamot.

"I have to say, Old Lucius surprised me." Ron commented between mouthfuls. Hermione raised her eyebrows and sniggered,

" 'Old Lucius'?" she repeated, "Isn't that a little over-familiar, to be calling the man that?"

Harry rolled his eyes, and shook his head, while Ron shrugged. "Either way, he surprised me. I didn't believe him 100% when he said he would help, but he's stuck to his word."

Hermione looked between them, "Wait, he said he would help? Willingly? You guys need to fill me in more – was this before or after he got given his sentence?" she asked.

"Before," Harry answered, before Ron could spray them all with mash potato.

"His trial lasted the entire day, so his verdict wasn't retuned until the next morning. Between that time he wrote down every name he could remember of all those who served in the regime, he noted who had been branded with the mark, he made a note of who he believed to be imperioused." Harry explained. "Since then, we've been over the list with him a few times, asking more questions, and he's been really compliant – even civil."

"Really?" Hermione asked incredulously.

Harry nodded, "I know, it surprised me too. But he has been a real help: there are a lot of names on that list that we haven't found yet, some are believed dead, but there are a lot who he believes are well hidden, he's given us a number of likely locations."

"You're not worried about being set up?" Hermione asked tentatively.

This time Ron spoke up, "Naturally, we are. It was the first thing I said. But we're still going to have to check these places out, get a few teams together, see what we can unearth."

Harry nodded, "It's the only lead we have to go on, and I genuinely think Lucius has given us creditable information, I mean what inducement does he have to do otherwise? If he leads us false and puts us in danger, he'll be in Azkaban a lot longer than the ten years he's been initially given."

"And if he's told you the truth and his information results in catching the remaining Death Eaters?" Hermione asked.

"His sentence will likely be cut in half, at the very least." Harry answered, he spotted Hermione's look of incredulous disbelief and continued, "There are a lot of names on that list Hermione, a lot of high profile names – people who were high in the Ministry and who were in Voldemort's inner circle. If we can bring them all in, we've hit the jackpot. Lucius didn't fight in the final battle, he abandoned Voldemort's cause before his downfall, and was preparing to flee. Everyone knows he's helping the Ministry round up the Death Eater's, he now has a lot of enemies." Harry explained.

Hermione laughed and shook her head, "Who would have thought, the Malfoys are really trying to become truly respectable in society." Then moving away from the Malfoys, but sticking to the topic, she asked,

"So these searches: whose going to be in charge? Who's hunting? And when?" She had a feeling she already knew the answers to each question, but wanted clarification all the same.

"Well, we're putting together five teams of four." Harry explained, with a knowing smile at Hermione: he heard in her voice that she already knew the answer.

"I'll be heading one the teams," Harry continued, "and three of the most senior Aurors that are left will be heading the others. Trent is staying behind, he's not keen to go out into the field, which is why I'm having a team myself."

Hermione smiled sadly at her best friends. "You're going without me." She stated sadly. "That's going to be so strange."

Ron smiled at her, "Don't worry, we won't be ready to go until September anyway, so you'll be at Hogwarts."

If this was meant to make Hermione feel better, it didn't, it only made her realise that she would be going to Hogwarts without them, "God, I'll be at Hogwarts without you!"

Harry and Ron both laughed, "You're only just realising this now?" Ron asked.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh, "No, I mean, I always knew, when I accepted that you wouldn't be coming with me. But it's just sort of hit me – it's going to be very strange."

Ron then stretched and stood up, "I said I'd call in on mum, I don't fancy going outside to apparate so I'll floo it from here if that's alright?" He said to Harry, who nodded,

"No worries, mate. See you in a few," He responded, without taking his eyes from Hermione.

Hermione laughed, "Only you, Ronald, could be so lazy to not take ten steps to apparate."

Ron grinned sheepishly as he retrieved the pot of the kitchen mantle, tossing a handful into the flames, he declared: "The Burrow" and disappeared with a 'whoosh' leaving Harry and Hermione alone.

"How's things with your parents?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded slowly, "They're alright. They've adjusted brilliantly, settled back as if nothing ever happened." She explained.

"That's a good thing isn't it?" Harry asked, watching Hermione intently.

"To a degree, yes." She answered slowly, "But I can't ignore the past year, what happened has changed me, and that affects, things." Hermione finished lamely.

"Ok," Harry said, levelling with Hermione, "Clearly, there is something you are not telling me, I've known this for a while now, that you're keeping something from me – and I am not going to nag you tell me. I know that you will tell me when you want to. But you know you can tell me anything right?" he clarified.

Hermione smiled, "Of course I know that, Harry. I always tell you everything." She assured him.

"But not this?" he said quietly, "I just don't want things to have changed between us after…after last Christmas." He said. "You've never had secrets from me."

Hermione smiled wider, "Nothing has changed Harry, I can promise you that. I can still tell you anything, and believe me when all this is sorted you will be the first to know. But at the minute, things are still a little uncertain; I need things to settle down before I can tell you everything. I'm not entirely sure where I stand in it all at the moment, and you know how much of a control freak I am," She added with a grin, "Until I'm certain, there's no use bothering you with it."

Harry nodded, "Does this have something to do with your rash decision to return to Hogwarts?" he asked, thoughtfully.

"Yes, it does." Hermione admitted, slightly surprised he'd put those pieces together. "You know me better than anyone, Harry. I was all set to start at the Ministry, but the timing wouldn't have worked out so good for me. Hogwarts was a necessity. We'll leave it there for now." She said.

Harry nodded his acquiescence, and the conversation turned, "I hear you spent the morning indulging in interior design the other day." He commented with a smirk, causing Hermione to laugh outright.

"Yes, yes I did. It was actually quite fun. Andie is going to have that place looking incredible by the time she's through." Hermione admitted

###

Draco was stood in the dining room, with his Aunt Andromeda, looking over the pages of parchment she had brought with her that morning.

"I mean, these are only ideas," She was saying, "And I won't do anything you disapprove of." She assured him.

Draco looked at the parchments spread across the dining table; Andromeda had presented detailed, coloured, sketches of her intentions for the principle rooms of the house.

"You don't like it." Andromeda stated, attempting to interpret Draco's silence.

"It's not that," Draco assured her, "It's just…. different." he finished.

"Well, that was the intention of the exercise." His aunt commented dryly, causing Draco to laugh.

"Look, I'm not one for interior design, but it all looks alright to me. I'm just trying to figure out what Mother would think of it all." He sighed.

Andromeda placed a hand upon her nephew's arm. "She will be home again, soon." She tried to console him.

"But in what state?" Draco said quietly, finally voicing out loud what he had been thinking for a while.

"Azkaban is no picnic." He continued, "My father wasn't the same when he cam out after a year. I know she's only going to have been in there a couple of months, but still…" He trailed off.

"When your Mother gets out, she won't be herself at first," Andromeda conceded, "But she will be in time. As long as we give her the support she needs. We need to surround her with positive influences – these rooms are too dark and oppressive, she needs her surroundings to be a little more light, and optimistic."

Draco nodded along in silence, so Andromeda continued: "We didn't go overboard with the light. And we've kept some Slytherin influence in most of the rooms, we just lightened the tones."

"We?" Draco questioned, picking up on the plural.

"Yes. I had a little help from Hermione. Actually she was a lot of help, it was rather fun, and useful to bounce ideas of each other, I think we came up with some great stuff." Andromeda admitted.

Draco snorted and shook his head, "Granger is redecorating my house," he muttered. "The world ceased to make sense a long time ago, but this is just pure insanity."

Andromeda smiled, but otherwise ignored the slight jibe against Hermione. Draco sighed and continued:

"But, in saying that, you two have come up with some good ideas." He admitted, "The more I look at it, the more I like it. So, knock yourself out." He allowed his aunt free reign, adding:

"Let me know if there is anything I can do to help. The house elves know you're planning to make changes, and they have been told to do whatever you ask of them."

"Thank you," Andromeda said, surprised by the gesture: Draco passing along a portion of his authority to her made her feel truly welcome in his home.

"I think we'll start with bedrooms." She voiced aloud.

_###_

On the morning of the 31st, as Hermione was putting the finishing touches to the wrapping on Harry's birthday present, an owl swooped through her open doors, dropped a thick envelope on her bed, and swooped away again. Hermione picked up the package, turning the envelope over she saw the familiar Hogwarts Seal and smiled. Leaving the present at the foot of the bed, she leaned back into her pillows, broke the seal and opened her letter. Hermione pulled out a thick wad of parchment, and began to read the top sheet:

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_ We are pleased to welcome you back into Hogwarts for your final year of study. Enclosed you will find a list of course books and other equipment you will need for your final NEWT year. Term will start September 1st; the Hogwarts Express will depart from Platform 9 ¾ at 11am. Students are expected to arrive at Hogwarts in full uniform, ready for the Start of Term feast._

_ I would now like to take this moment to congratulate you on being chosen for the position of Head Girl. Also enclosed in this letter is your new Head Girl badge, and a second letter detailing your duties this year, as well as a list of your fellow heads. _

_We look forward to seeing you on September 1st_

_ Headmistress Minerva McGonagall._

Hermione sat upright after reading, and grabbed the envelope she had tossed to her side. She tipped it up over her lap, and out fell the badge she had been wanting since her very first day at the school. She picked it up and inspected it: the Hogwarts Crest, with a golden HG. Hermione grinned at her prize, but couldn't help but realise that she was not nearly as excited about this as she had been when she was granted Prefect status. She quickly went back to her letter, and skipping past the list of school books, she riffled through the parchments until she found her second letter, and began to read again:

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_ Congratulations on securing the position of Head Girl! Due to the unique circumstances of this year, there will be two Heads and two Deputy Heads, each position will be filled by a representative from each house. The Head Boy and Girl have been chosen from returning seventh years, while the Deputy Head Boy and Girl have been chosen from the students sitting their seventh year for the first time. You will all share responsibilities to an equal amount, however the Head Boy and Girl get the added luxury of a private tower, including your own sitting room, study area with small library, your own bedchamber and a bathroom. Your old bed in your house dormitory will still be available to you as an alternative, should you wish to use it._

_The Head representatives for this year are as follows:_

_ **Head Boy: Draco Malfoy (Slytherin)**_

_** Head Girl: Hermione Granger (Gryffindor)**_

_** Deputy Head Boy: Zacharias Smith (Hufflepuff)**_

_** Deputy Head Girl: Luna Lovegood (Ravenclaw).**_

_There will be a compartment reserved for the heads, in the first carriage of the Hogwarts Express, for you to use on your Journey to Hogwarts._

_We look forward to welcoming you back on September 1st._

_Congratulations, once again,_

_Headmistress Minerva McGonagall._

Hermione had mixed reactions to this second letter: She literally squealed with excitement of having her own private tower, her own room, and even her own library! She felt certain she would most definitely be using that, rather than return to Gryffindor Tower – she knew her return would cause a certain amount of sensation and she didn't think she would be able to handle an entire school year of whispers and stares and constant requests for stories of the past year. A private dormitory would be heaven!

But then she read the name of her fellow head: Draco Malfoy. She would be sharing this tower with Draco Malfoy.

When she read the name, she couldn't help but moan, "ohhh, seriously?"

Hermione fell back into her pillows with a disgruntled, "eugh" followed by "for fuck's sake!" she exploded, just as her mother walked through her door.

Victoria stopped short, "I'm sorry. Should I have knocked? Your doors were open, I thought I could just walk in." she commented dryly, with a frown, clearly unimpressed by her daughter's exclamation

Hermione looked up, "Sorry, that wasn't aimed at you." She said hastily, sitting up. "What's up?"

"Richard is here, he's down in the kitchen with your father at the moment. Aren't you coming down?"

"I didn't know he was coming over, I'll be down directly." Hermione said politely.

Victoria indicated toward the parchments now strewn across Hermione's bed. "Is everything alright?" she asked.

"My Hogwarts letter. Welcoming me back, it has my school list and," Hermione grinned and held up the badge for her mother to look at, "I got head girl!"

Victoria frowned, "And that required the expletive I just heard?"

Hermione laughed, "No," she explained, "It's the elected Head Boy that required the expletive. Draco Malfoy." She explained. "We never particularly got along, and the idea of sharing a tower with him, isn't particularly appealing. Don't get me wrong; I'm perfectly capable of being civil to the guy, but living with him? Right now I couldn't think of anything worse. But," Hermione smiled again, "I'll worry about that later. I'll come down with you now, but I hope you're not planning on inviting Richard to dinner?" She asked as she hopped off her bed, and followed her mother out of the room.

"And what would be wrong with that?" Victoria asked with a frown. "I will be out, your father can make himself scarce. It will be a perfect opportunity for you two to be alone."

"You do remember today is Harry's birthday?" Hermione reminded her, "I'm going over to the Burrow at 3 to help Molly and Ginny set things up, before Harry gets back from work."

Comprehension dawned on Victoria's face. "Of course, I'm sorry, darling, I did forget. Never mind, you'll just have to do lunch instead."

Hermione rolled her eyes at her mother's back: Richard had been over to the house plenty of times throughout July, and still the pair were behaving more like best friends than lovers, something Victoria seemed determined to ignore, it seemed. And Hermione had to admit, it would seem that Richard's thoughts were along the same line as her mothers.

Hermione plastered a smile on her face as she descended into the kitchen.

"Well, this is a surprise," she announced as she entered the room, "Ten o'clock on a Wednesday, shouldn't you be working?" Hermione asked with a sly smile.

"Is that aimed at Richard, or me?" Her father answered.

"Both. But primarily Richard – after all you often spend the odd day working from home, dad, so I'm used to you using the kitchen as you place of procrastination." She teased.

"And on that note, I will return to my office. Where I can procrastinate without the judgement." Anthony commented, causing Hermione to laugh. Taking his cup of tea and heading to the stairs, Anthony paused at the foot of the steps and turned to his wife,

"Victoria, you have that meeting in York at lunch time, you might want to head off shortly." He reminded her.

Victoria rolled her eyes, "I know, don't worry. I'm getting my coffee to go, then I'll be heading right out of the door."

Hermione and Richard were soon left alone, and after making Richard and herself a cup of tea, Hermione threw open the French doors and headed out onto the deck, Richard following behind.

"So, you're here on a Wednesday morning," Hermione commented, taking a seat on one of the lounges, "Do you ever work?"

Richard laughed as he took a seat beside her, "That is the beauty of our investments: Our place is behind the scenes. We generally stick to being silent partners in most things – we get all the rewards with so little effort on our part."

Hermione frowned at this willing admission of Richard's lack of work ethic. Richard rolled his eyes,

"Relax, I'm kidding. You know we work – we have to work hard keep up with what we've got. After all, my family wouldn't be where we are today without a little hard work."

Hermione frowned again, "Hmmm, a little hard work and a lot of good luck. Everyone knows your family's start-up came from some meagre life savings, a lucky pre-war investment and an extremely fortunate poker game in Vegas." She commented dryly.

Richard grinned, shamelessly, "Well excuse us for exploiting our talents. But after the war, we all took our advantages and ran with them – it was each man for himself, we can't all inherit you know."

Hermione smiled ruefully, "My mother inherited this house - not cold hard cash, a house. Keeping the estate up and running demands a lot of work, it has done for generations, and just because we have old money, doesn't mean it's any easier to keep hold of it." A sly grin began to form as she continued, "And after the war you know, we had to watch out for those many upstarts exploiting their talents, taking what they could get."

Richard laughed, "Touché." He said, shaking his head, then decided to make peace.

"At the end of the day, we both have a nice amount of money, let's not argue about how we got it. After all, most couples argue about a lack of money, we don't have that issue so let's not make it an issue."

"Fine," Hermione conceded with good grace, "But just so you know, your work ethic – or rather your apparent lack of – will become an issue in the future."

Richard smiled, "Despite the fact that you will probably work enough for the both of us, the only reason I am being apparently lax, is because in one month time you will be returning to Scotland. And when you go to Scotland, to school, I won't be able to see you, won't even be able to contact you, for ten months." He told her truthfully, adding, "Trust me, honey, when you aren't around, I work damn hard."

"Oh, so I'm a distraction?" Hermione asked, playfully, trying to keep the tone of the conversation light.

"But a very good one," Richard assured her, keeping up Hermione's tone of playfulness. Before adding, "And, if I wasn't procrastinating, and taking time off, I wouldn't be able to take you out to dinner tonight. I was thinking we could get the 3 o'clock train to King's Cross, we'll be there in a couple of hours, we can have an early dinner and go see a show. What do you say?"

Hermione chewed her lip, "I can't, not today." She told him apologetically, "It's Harry's Birthday, I'm actually heading over to The Burrow in a few hours time." She explained.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione added, seeing his disappointment.

Richard shrugged, "Not to worry. I guess it was a long shot to expect you could be away from you friends long enough to spend some time with your family and future husband." He said, failing to keep the bitterness from his voice.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Are we seriously going to argue about this?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, but it's been coming for a long time." Richard stated "You are hardly ever home-"

"That is not true," Hermione defended herself instantly, her playful tone disappearing fast. "I am here practically every day – I think the longest absence has been less than forty-eight hours. I eat here; I sleep here, except for on a couple of occasions. I may not be here much during the day, but here's a News Flash for you: Neither are my parents! I'm around when my parents are around: so don't start giving me shit about not spending time with my family." Hermione fired back.

"Fine," Richard conceded, though not with any good grace. "I'll give you that. But what about me?" He asked, "I go out of my way to plan something special for us, just the two of us, to try and get us back on track. But every time, you have other plans."

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh, and put her head back, "I'm sorry, I am. And the gesture is not overlooked. But maybe you should try planning things _with _me, instead of _for_ me. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the surprise, but today is Harry's birthday. I am not going to change my plans at the drop of a hat just because you made other arrangements without asking me. If that is your expectation of a wife, you have a rude awakening ahead of you." Hermione warned, getting to her feet as she spoke, she made her way back into the kitchen. The relaxing morning she had intended to enjoy, now a blatant dream of the past.

Richard followed her in a heartbeat, saying as he passed through the doors into the kitchen, "A year ago, I would have planned this and you would have been available." He stated, "You used to spend the first month of your holidays here, just here. And then you would go somewhere – God knows where, you never actually said, just told me you were spending it with Harry and Ron. But now, you are with them all the time. Where's my time gone?"

Hermione held up her hands in frustration, "I don't know, how about now?" she asked, sarcasm dripping from her frustration, "I'm here right now aren't I? Only you seem to want to spend the time arguing." Hermione accused.

Instead of verbally responding, Richard walked up to Hermione, placed both hands on either side of her face, and crushed his lips down onto hers, pouring all his frustration into one passionate kiss.

Caught completely off guard, Hermione automatically return the kiss with an almost equal passion, bringing her hands up automatically, to wrap them around his neck. It reminded her of the way Richard had kissed her when they had said their goodbyes last summer, and without sparing a thought, Hermione allowed herself to melt into his embrace.

Barely had she begun to lose herself in the passion beginning to consume them both, when Richard pulled back; keeping his hands on her face, he rested his forehead against hers and sighed.

"No, I don't want to argue." He told her in a passionate whisper, "I want us to be like we were before. I want the Hermione that I know to come back to me."

Hermione looked up into Richard's eyes, pain and fear too clearly portrayed in her own – Richard's unexpected passion had thoroughly disarmed her, and she was struggling to bring her mask of cool nonchalance back up.

"What if that Hermione is well and truly gone?" Hermione whispered, "What if she's never coming back?"

Richard took a step back, releasing his hold on her face and sliding his hands down her arms to take her hands in his.

"What happened to you?" He asked with a frown, "What were you involved with, this year, that has changed you so much?"

Hermione smiled sadly, and shook her head, "I can't tell you-" she started.

"Hermione, I am going to be your husband-" Richard interrupted her, but was interrupted in turn.

"You know, you keep saying that," Hermione started with a smile, trying to turn the conversation to a less serious course, "But you haven't actually proposed yet. I don't even have a ring." She joked.

"Duly noted." Richard said with a small smile, which he tried in vain to hide. "But my point remains the same. One day I'll be your husband – what is there that you can not tell your husband? You have a secret, I know you do. Will you ever share it?"

Hermione sighed, and answered in seriousness. "Maybe one day I will tell you, but it will take a lot of explaining, and it will not be today. And with regards to this year, you don't need the details; even my parents don't know what happened. There are only two others who know everything that I went though this past year, and they only know because they lived through it too. At the end of the day, I'm not the same the girl you said goodbye to last year. You have to accept that, and you have to decide if you can live with that."

Hermione took a step back, pulling her hands free from Richard's grasp. "I have to change, I need to get ready to go over to the Weasley's place, they'll be expecting me soon." She stated, then added, "But I can be free on Saturday night, if you would like to have dinner with me?" Hermione asked in concession; She was mindful that Richard had been trying hard the past few weeks, to make some form of progress with her, and she was equally conscious that she had done little to aid his attempts. But after the way he had just kissed her, which had left her so disarmed, she couldn't help thinking that perhaps trying to regain some of their past chemistry would be so bad.

"Saturday it is." Richard sighed, recognising his dismissal, but also noting Hermione's attempts to make up for the disaster of his plans tonight. "I'll see myself out. Enjoy your evening." He said as he walked toward the stairs leading up into the entrance hall.

Hermione touched his arm as he walked by, "I really am sorry about your plans tonight." She reiterated, "But it is Harry's birthday, and it's not something I can – or _want_ – to get out of." She assured him.

"I get it." Richard assured her, without looking back, but the tone of his voice left Hermione without any doubt that while he may indeed 'get it' he sure as hell didn't like it.

Hermione listened to his retreating steps, and when the footfalls faded above her, she sighed and turned to go down into the cellar to pick out a few fine muggle wines to take around to the Burrow in an hours time.

* * *

_**A/N: I hope the update was worth the wait. The next chapter will be up in about 8 hours, when I finish work for the day. Until then, let me know what you think - whether you loved it or hated it (or anything in between) leave a review and tell me :)**_

_**xBx**_


	8. Chapter 8: The End of Summer

**_A/N: I think I went a little over the time limit I set myself, but here's Chapter 8. _  
**

**_Enjoy :D_**

**_xBx_**

* * *

**~ Chapter 8: The End of Summer ~**

By 6:30pm Harry's party was in full swing. Hermione had turned up at 3pm as planned, to assist Molly and Ginny with the food preparations, and George had turned up an hour later to deal with the decorations. Andromeda had turned up with Teddy not long after George, and from 5:30pm a steady stream of visitors arrived, so that the Weasley's yard was nicely full when Harry and Ron rolled in from the office a little after 6pm.

While Harry did his rounds, Hermione was sat under on of the trees with a glass of rosé, when Ginny came over to sit with her, closely followed by Luna, who had been one of the earliest to arrive. Luna had changed a little in the past year, just like the rest of them, while she still retained her dreamy expression, her conversation was more serious that it used to be, less talk of wrackspurts and nargles - though there were still some days that Luna was as surreal as ever, today seemed to be more along the serenely serious lines, as opposed to the slightly surreal.

"You look like you have a lot on your mind," Ginny stated as she sat down next to Hermione. "Care to share?" she asked.

Hermione smiled, "It's nothing, I'm just enjoying the rare summer evening." She said evasively, then hastened to change the subject.

"Hey, did you two get your Hogwart's letters today?" She asked.

Ginny grinned excitedly, as Luna answered, "Yes, we did. Congratulations on attaining Head Girl."

Hermione looked a little taken aback, "How did you know?" she asked.

"I got a list of the fellow heads." Luna explained, as though this was obvious – which, if Hermione had fully engaged her brain, did make sense, seeing as she herself received the same list.

"Of course," Hermione conceded, "Congratulations to you too, I'm looking forward to working with you."

"I believe you are the only person I'm looking forward to working with. I didn't particularly like Zacharias Smith from our days in the DA. And while Draco Malfoy is considered to be an extremely attractive specimen of the opposite sex, I believe his above average appearance is his only redeeming quality." Luna stated matter-of-factly.

Hermione laughed, "I'll drink to that, I guess." She said then turned to Ginny, "And you? You decided to go right into Seventh year as well, didn't you, so you wouldn't have gotten prefect?"

"Correct." Ginny assured her, with a grin, "But you are looking at the new Gryffindor Quidditch Captain." She boasted.

Hermione beamed, "I knew you'd get that, you were the obvious choice. And, you know that puts you on equal status with the prefects now?" She told her, "You get to use their bathroom and everything."

"Yeah, 'cause that's the real reason I wanted the captaincy." Ginny claimed, sarcastically.

Hermione laughed, "Mock all you want, the prefects' bathroom is divine." She assured her.

"Yeah, well, moving on. What perks do you two get for being Heads?" Ginny asked.

Luna answered first, "The deputies get the same perks as the prefects really: the luxury bathroom, separate dormitory, later curfews. And we have the same level of authority as the main Heads."

Ginny then looked to Hermione, "Anything extra for the main Heads?" She asked eagerly.

Hermione grinned, "A tower." She stated simply. Ginny raised her eyebrows, even Luna showed a look of faint surprise.

"A tower?" Ginny probed.

Hermione nodded, "Yeah: The Head's Tower. It has a sitting room, a study area with a small library, private bedroom and bathroom."

Ginny's jaw dropped, "Are you kidding me?!" She exclaimed. "Perce never got that, when he was Head Boy! How come you get such a sweet deal?"

Hermione shrugged, but Luna answered for her: "It's most likely down to the increased intake of students this year." She explained, "The number of seventh years will be higher than usual due to the re-takers; then there are even more first years expected this year due to the fact that many were not invited into Hogwarts last year due to their parentage. It's likely the house dormitories will be stretched to capacity this year, so the school will be freeing up space where they can. That's why they have introduced a Prefect Dormitory." She told them.

Hermione nodded, she remembered reading that in her own letter that contained a full briefing of her duties. To Ginny, however, this news was another surprise.

"They have?" GInny qualified.

"Yes." Luna confirmed, "It was in my letter, the Deputy Heads have their own private rooms in the prefect dorm. The prefects will be split according to gender, but not according to house, it's intended to promote-"

"Inter-house unity." Both Ginny and Hermione spoke at the same time as Luna, finishing her sentence with her. All three laughed.

"I thought they'd be making a point of that this year," Ginny said, shaking her head, then turned to Hermione, suddenly remembering something.

"I'm assuming the Head's Tower is a joint residence of both the Head Girl and Boy?" Ginny enquired with a sly grin.

Hermione's smile crumpled and she sighed, preparing for the ridicule she could feel brewing in Ginny, "Yes. Yes it is." She reluctantly admitted.

Ginny threw back her head and laughed in unrestrained glee, even Luna gave a small giggle. Hermione rolled her eyes, muttering darkly: "Well, at least some of us are enjoying this situation."

"I'm sorry," Ginny laughed, clearly not that sorry at all, "But I can't wait to see the fall out of this. You and Draco Malfoy, living together, its just disaster waiting to happen."

Ginny laughed again, and Luna followed suit, finding the prospect just as amusing. Hermione tried to look irritated, but the laughter was infectious, and even she could see the funny side of the situation, and she eventually let a small chuckle escape her.

At that moment they were sought out by Harry and Ron, who had been making the rounds of the guests since they had arrived from work, but were now at leisure to sit with the girls as long as they wanted.

"What's the joke?" Ron asked as he took a seat between Luna and his sister.

"The prospect of Hermione's year." Ginny said gleefully.

Harry, having taken a seat by Hermione's feet, opposite Ron, looked at Hermione with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione rolled her eyes and explained, "We got our Hogwarts letters today. I got Head Girl-"

"Obviously." Ron interrupted. Hermione frowned at him, but otherwise ignored the interruption, continuing her explanation.

"Long story short, The Head Boy and Girl get to live in the Head's Tower, instead of the House dorms, this year."

Harry nodded, "And this is a trial because?" he asked, thinking Hermione would much prefer her own tower, than going back into Gryffindor Tower, this year.

"The head boy is Draco Malfoy." Luna explained in a tone that suggested the boys should already know this knowledge.

The boys' reactions were sufficiently characteristic: Harry was quietly indignant, though he refrained from saying anything – He knew Hermione could handle herself in anything, and at the end of the day Draco Malfoy seemed to be turning a corner, and trying to start again; and like Hermione, Harry felt there was no use making a deal out of something they couldn't avoid.

Ron did what Ron did best: spluttered his drink and turned Red, "You have to share a tower with that slime-ball?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Ron relax. I think Malfoy and myself have grown up enough over the past couple of years to survive the year without serious misfortune and pettiness. We're both their with the same intentions: to get our NEWT's, I'm sure he will want to keep his head down as much as I do this year." Hermione commented with exasperation.

Sensing Hermione's keenness to turn the conversation, and a wish to simply sit back and relax, Harry stepped in to diffuse the ticking time bomb that was Ron's temper, and started up a conversation about Ginny's plans for the Gryffindor team this year, having already been informed of her captaincy by Molly.

Hermione smiled gratefully at Harry, knowing he had purposefully picked a conversation that would easily distract Ronald, but that she could easily keep out of without any question, allowing her to just sit back and enjoy the peace of a summer evening.

Harry gave her a smile, and a discreet wink, as she leaned back against her tree and let the late summer sun wash over her. After a while the conversation became a dull murmur to her ears, as she looked out across the garden, to the stream running at the edge of the plot, and her own thoughts began to intrude. Unbidden, she began thinking of Richard, and the heated conversation from earlier: there was still some passion there between them, but it only seemed apparent when they argued, and that was not what she wanted to rely on for passion, particularly not in a marriage. She began to unconsciously chew her lip as she thought about the following Saturday: She felt that their date on Saturday would cement her fate, she would either find that Richard and herself could regain the relationship they had lost, in which case, perhaps she could continue with the engagement. Or, there was no connection there any more, and the only way she could go through with this marriage would be is she was bound, gagged, and forced down the aisle.

The rest of the evening passed in a relaxed daze; the five beneath the tree managed to last an hour undisturbed, but as the sun began to lower to the horizon, Molly sought them out to scold them into socialising.

The rest of the week passed in a haze of the routine Hermione had slipped into, and before she knew it, Saturday afternoon was upon her. Hermione was in her closet, scrutinising her appearance in the full-length mirror, a mountain of discarded clothes lay beside her. She had spent the past hour trying to find the perfect attire for her 'date' – she had finally settled on the classic little black dress, which fell to her mid thighs. Though the dress only had thin straps, it had a lace overlay that flowed to just above her knee, and lace sleeves, which she had cleverly modified to cover her entire arm, thus discreetly disguising the 'mudblood' scar on he forearm. Her hair had been pulled back into her favourite French braid, which was then curled into a loose knot at the top of her neck.

She was just fastening some emerald earrings, when Victoria's voice came travelling through from the bedroom door. "Hermione?"

"In here!" Hermione called out, inviting her mother to join her. Three seconds later, Victoria was behind her daughter, smiling at her appearance.

"You look nice." She approved, then noticed the pile of clothes, "Tried a few options did we?" she asked.

Hermione laughed, "Just a few. Did you need something?" She asked, pleasantly.

"Richard is here." Victoria informed her, she seemed to hesitate, and then decided to continue: "I'm glad you're really giving him a second chance, I know you were reluctant at first, but I'm glad you humoured me. I know it will all work out."

Hermione smiled, but refrained from responding, instead she flicked her wand at the clothes, sending them back to their correct hangers, she then slipped into the emerald satin, statement heels next to her, picked up her matching clutch and slipped her wand inside. She caught her mother's frown, and raised her eyebrows in silent question.

"You're taking your wand?" Victoria asked, slightly bemused.

"Of course. I take it everywhere." Hermione said proceeding to walk out of her room.

"But surely you don't need it, you'll be among muggles." Victoria said, following her daughter, and the pair descended the stairs together.

"I'm hoping I won't be using it, but I will never go anywhere without it. You wouldn't understand, but I feel naked and vulnerable without it. Everything we're taught involves wand-work. It's a tool to channel our magic, we feel lost without it. And that's not a pleasant feeling." She informed her mother.

Victoria let the conversation drop as they descended into the entrance hall where Richard was waiting. Hermione couldn't help but smile, despite her trepidation at the forthcoming evening, Richard was looking incredibly attractive, wearing a dark suit, with a light grey shirt that had an almost silver sheen to it. The top two buttons of his shirt were left open, and the suit jacket was held loosely in one had. His entire ensemble had an expensive look to it, without being ostentatious, and while the attire could be deemed formal, he managed to carry it off in a casual way – Hermione knew she was going to be the envy of every woman they saw this evening, simply for being on the arm of what could only be described as a God.

"You look amazing." Richard told her, as Hermione stepped down onto the entrance hall, Victoria carried on, going down to the Kitchen leaving Hermione to her own devices.

"Thank you," Hermione smiled. "So do you." She told him truthfully. "So where are you taking me?" She asked, heading straight for the door.

Richard smiled as the walked to the car that was waiting for them at the foot of the stone stairs,

"A new bar," he told her, opening the rear door for Hermione, "It will probably take about forty minutes to get there, it's right in the centre of York, but it's great." He told her as he followed her into the car.

"What kind of bar?" She asked slowly, she was under the impression they were having dinner and a few drinks.

"It's a cocktail bar, with a twist." He said slyly, "Very classy, great food as well."

"What's the twist?" Hermione asked, getting more worried by the moment.

"I'm not going to spoil it for you, so stop with the questions, but I know you're going to love it." Richard assured her. Hermione decided to let it drop: she knew she wouldn't be getting anything else out of him.

Instead, Richard turned the conversation, and asked Hermione about the rest of her week, having not seen her since their disagreement on Harry's birthday. The drive into city was comfortable enough, though Hermione was a little anxious at what she was about to be exposed to.

When Hermione stepped out of the car, she saw they were along the waterfront, near the more high-end restaurants and bars. Richard led her down some steps to the water level, and into a side door, flanked by two bouncers who nodded to Richard as they passed. Inside they went down another flight of steps, bathed in bluish-white light, which in conjunction with the marble floor gave the effect that they were walking into winter.

"We're going into a basement?" Hermione asked with trepidation, expecting the place to be rather confined.

Richard grinned, "Yes, but don't worry, it's very spacious." he assured her, correctly guessing her fears. "When it was being done, they dug out the floor to give the rooms extra height. And the design is such, that you can sort of forget you're underground." He said vaguely.

At the foot of the stairs they went through another doorway, and Hermione stopped short as she looked around: The theme was apparently some form of magical wonderland, an ingenious mix of Alice in Wonderland and Narnia.

"I don't know whether I've walked through the wardrobe, or tumbled down the rabbit hole." She said, in awe.

Richard laughed, and gestured to his right: "Through there," he said, pointing down a short corridor that had been spectacularly painted to look like a forest, the added extras of live foliage along the wall, and a collection of leaves and other ground debris which were encased in the floor tiles, gave the impression than one truly was in the middle of the woods,

"That leads directly to the dance floor, where there is a smaller bar, and some seats: that way, people who arrive well into the night, simply to dance can go right through, without interrupting those who wish for a quieter evening. And wait until you see the ceiling in there: painted to look like a night sky, vary magical." Richard informed her.

He then walked her forward into the main seating section and it was like stepping into a large forest clearing: the same sort of mural was painted across the walls and up onto the ceiling, the lighting gave the effect of twilight which was incredibly romantic. The furniture was an eclectic miss-match of wooden tables, of varying heights, shapes and sizes, all with similar centrepieces of candles surrounded by a simple collection of woodland flowers. A varied collection of chairs, again made primarily of different solid woods, were gathered around the tables: some plain wooden stools, and some more extravagant, high-backed and upholstered chairs; along the walls ran simple wooden benches, loaded with a collection of plush cushions.

"Am I at the Mad Hatter's tea party? Or Mr Tumnus' house?" Hermione said with a smile.

Richard laughed, "Admit it, you're impressed." He said.

Hermione nodded. "I am." She said looking around. It was clearly quite popular, as many of the tables were taken, and the bar was already collecting a crowd. "Did you book a table?" she asked.

Richard gave a knowing smile, as if he knew something else he hadn't shared with Hermione yet,

"No need." He said, taking her hand and leading her across the floor towards a corner that edged onto the other room. On a raised section sat three tables made from large tree stumps, designed to look like they naturally grew from the ground. A wooden bench ran around the corner, looking as if it had grown from the wall, and was covered in a multitude of plump cushions. A collection of more plush seats were also collected around the tables and the whole corner was sectioned off with railings that were tangled with wild flowers and vines.

In front of the step leading up was placed a large sign declaring: Private Area. Reserved.

Hermione looked at Richard as he led her around the sign and up to the tables.

"You have your own area?" she inquired, "What aren't you telling me?"

At that moment, a man who could only be the manager appeared behind them, "Richard!" He greeted, then seeing Hermione, "And this must be Miss Granger?"

Hermione held out her hand, "Hermione, pleased to meet you." She said politely.

The manager shook it, saying: "Paul, anything you need, ask for me." He told her. Hermione smiled her thanks, and Paul turned back to Richard, "A case of that Champagne you wanted to try for this place arrived today, for us to test out. Shall I bring you a bottle?"

"Did they send the pink or the white?" He asked.

"Both, they believe both will fit the venue." Paul said with a roll of his eyes.

"Bring us two glasses of each then, we may as well taste them both." Richard told him, and then asked, "How are the dishes going down?"

Paul smiled, "No complaints and a lot of compliments. You didn't try them after we modified the menu, did you?" he asked.

Richard shook his head, "not yet."

"I'll send a selection out for you both." Paul said, and then turned away.

Richard turned back to Hermione and joined her on the bench. Hermione gave him a measured look, "Personal service from the manager, and your own corner." She stated. "It's time to share the secret." She told him.

Richard laughed, "I own the place."

Hermione's jaw dropped, "Since when?" she asked with incredulity, stunned he hand't mentioned it earlier.

"About a month ago. The guy, who originally owned the place, had already sought the planning permission and the right licences for the premises. How it's set out is pretty much to the original plans he set. But he got into some severe financial difficulty a while back: the work kept on, he thought he could solve his problems. Turns out he couldn't, and that's where I came in. I bought the place from him, and finished the project. Nearly all the work was done - all that was left to do was the interior design, and we made a few changes to the bar layout to compliment the theme, and how we really wanted the place to look and feel."

Hermione couldn't help but be impressed; "All this was your idea?" she clarified.

"Yep," Richard said, clearly proud of himself, "Admit it, now you're _really_ impressed."

Hermione laughed, and nodded, "Yes, I am very impressed." She commended him as a waiter came with a tray carrying four champagne flutes.

"Tell me what you think of these." Richard said handing Hermione a glass of white and a glass of pink champagne. "We only opened Monday, we haven't got Champagne of the wine list yet, Because the original one we got wasn't that good, so I'm thinking of stocking these. "

Hermione picked up the white first and raised a toast, "To your new business venture." She said, "I hope your work pays off."

Richard his glass, adding, "And to us. It's seems we're finally getting on track again." He smiled.

Hermione smiled, and took a drink, refraining from any comment. Despite the romantic atmosphere around her, she was still finding it difficult to find any emotional spark.

Despite the lack of romantic feelings on Hermione's side, she had a very enjoyable evening: She and Richard conversed as easy as ever, discussing his new career venture. When a selection from the improved menu arrived for them to try, they were occupied for another hour critiquing the food, though Hermione found the cuisine exceptional and there was very little she could suggest for improvement.

"But, after living off wild mushrooms for the better part of a year, I am easy to please at the moment." Hermione joked, carelessly.

Richard frowned, "Wild mushrooms?" he questioned, "What led you to have to resort to that?" He asked in harmless curiosity.

Hermione mentally kicked herself for letting her filter momentarily slip. She shook her head, "Never mind, it's not important. But there was a period of a fair few months where actual food wasn't available to us, and we pretty much had to live off the land as best we could. Anyway." She said, picking up her glass, leaning back into the cushions and determining to change the course of the discussion.

"Have you considered hiring the place out as a private venue? This place would be perfect for theme parties: weddings, birthdays, engagement parties - even proms!" Hermione suggested, "You could provide a package: negotiable menu, a set wine selection. You could make a killing."

"I hadn't thought of it, properly" He admitted, "But it's definitely something I would look into, and that I'll be discussing with Paul very soon." Richard said, accepting Hermione's change of subject without question.

After discussing Richard's intended direction for the bar and they had finished a bottle of the champagne, Richard took Hermione to the dance floor. Stepping down from their raised platform, her turned left and went through an archway, from which draped down a vast amount of fine silks in pastel blues and aqua's that glistened in the lights that shone from the top of the arch thus giving the effect that one was about to walk through a waterfall.

On the other side, Hermione was once again struck with awe at the design: The forest mural hand continued around the walls, and a long bench ran the perimeter of room, again stacked with an ample amount of cushions, interrupted only by the bar in the back left corner, and small round tables were dotted intermittently along the bench. The floor, however, was now no longer reminiscent of the forest, instead the floor was palely lit from underneath, and glowed a crystalline blue, giving the effect that they were now standing upon a frozen lake. This clever design also helped to light the room, without taking away from the magnificence of the ceiling, which was a deep sapphire, and dotted with silver stars. Richard hadn't been lying, the place really did have a magical feel to it.

"Wow!" Hermione breathed, "You have done good. This place really is amazing." She commended him.

"I knew you'd love it." He grinned, not at all modest. He then took he hand and led her to the middle of the room, saying as he did. "Now, dance with me."

###

Hermione awoke very late on Sunday morning – so late it was almost afternoon, with a very dry mouth, and a slight headache. She had to admit; she had had a very good night, last night. She had sampled every cocktail on the list, and danced so much her feet were slightly swollen, it was the first time she had let her hair down in a long time. But despite all this, the night had done nothing to rekindle the spark she had once felt with Richard. Hermione sighed, she had tried, but it was no use: To her, Richard was just a friend, a very close friend, but a friend all the same. Now she had to try and convince her mother of this fact: Hermione groaned, this thought made her head throb even more, so she rolled over and went back to sleep.

After spending most of Sunday in bed, Hermione was up at the crack of dawn on Monday morning, and after taking a long breakfast, and an equally long shower, Hermione apparated to the Leaky Cauldron where she would be meeting Ginny at 10am. Looking at her watch she noticed she was five minutes early, and with Ginny's tendency to be ten minutes late, Hermione sat herself at the bar and ordered an iced tea.

When Ginny turned up, precisely ten minutes late as expected, she made her way over to the bar and sat next to Hermione.

"I'm sorry, I thought we were coming here to shop, not drink?" She said, in lieu of a greeting.

Hermione grinned, "I had to do something to pass the time, knowing you would be late."

Hermione finished the last of her drink and stood up, "Right then, I guess we ought to make our way to Gringotts first." Hermione said, trying to sound cheerful at the prospect, though a knot had formed in her stomach.

When they entered Diagon Alley through the archway, Hermione couldn't help but smile: the change since her last visit was remarkable. All the shops were back open, and people were milling about in the summer sunshine, stopping and talking on the street, with not a care in the world. It was the Diagon Alley that Hermione remembered from her early Hogwarts days, when her days were hopeful and exciting.

When they made it to Gringotts Hermione stopped outside the doors, looking at the inscription warning against thievery and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Ginny, who had continued walking and had opened the door, looked back confused, "Are you okay?" She asked.

Hermione nodded, "I'm just remembering the last time I walked through these doors." She told her, "I was disguised as Bellatrix Lestrange, going to steal from her vault." She admitted, and let out a nervous laugh. Before taking a deep breath and walking through the door Ginny was holding open, determining not to read the inscription as she passed.

Ginny simply stared, then followed – she hadn't heard _that_ part of the Gringotts story. , she realised now that there was a _lot_ that her brother and his two best friends hadn't told her about the past year. Ginny already had a bag of money to shop with, but Hermione needed to convert her Muggle Pounds into Wizard Gold, so they set off across the large marble room to one of the vacant counters.

As they were crossing the floor, Hermione saw the Goblins surveying her with less than friendly looks: they obviously remembered the last time Hermione was here, and Hermione dropped her head in discomfort. Ginny, however, was too busy taking in her surroundings with a frown to notice.

"It looks different." Ginny stated, suddenly, "I thought the floor was more extravagantly designed. And wasn't their a really magnificent, gigantic goblin-wrought chandelier?" she asked, looking up to the ceiling and adding severely to Hermione's discomfort.

Hermione wanted to cry, but instead she cleared her throat and mumbled out of the corner of her mouth, "Yes, you're right. But Harry, Ron and I destroyed it all when the dragon we were escaping on, clawed its way up through the floor, and up out of the roof. That was after we successfully stole from a top security vault, by the way." She added, "So can we please just hurry up, because I need to get out of here soon before the Goblins try to kill me." Hermione begged.

Ginny looked at Hermione for a moment, then laughed loudly, drawing even more attention to them. Hermione gave her a glare, which silenced her immediately.

"I'm sorry," Ginny whispered, "But that is a little bit incredible. And the goblins must hate you." She couldn't help but point out.

Thirty highly uncomfortable minutes later, Hermione and Ginny emerged from the bank unharmed. Hermione knew that the break-in had been pardoned by the Ministry due to its results of helping bring about the demise of Voldemort. But it was clear that the Goblins did not forget, nor forgive, as easily.

"Well, I think we can safely say that a career in banking is not going to be in my future." Hermione said causing Ginny to laugh.

The girls spent the next few hours happily shopping at an easy pace: they visited Madam Malkin's, where Hermione purchased a new robe and new winter cloak as hers was a little worse for wear after her months living in the forest. They spent a good forty minutes in Flourish & Blotts, picking up their necessary textbooks, which only took ten minutes, but Ginny had to virtually drag Hermione away from her idea of heaven. The tables were turned when they visited Quality Quidditch Supplies, as Ginny needed some new gloves, but spent thirty minutes discussing the latest broom models with the assistant behind the counter, before Hermione could finally drag her away. Throughout the afternoon, Hermione was subject to a lot of whispering and pointing, and while Hermione had been perusing the shelves of Flourish & Blotts a young girl, who looked to be about ten, had even approached her and who asked in a breathless voice of admiration:

"Are you Hermione Granger?"

Hermione was slightly taken aback, but answered politely, "Yes I am."

The Girls face broke into a huge grin; "I'm Verity. I've heard all about you." She announced, "You spent the year with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, didn't you? You helped defeat You-Know-Who!" She said excitedly.

Hermione didn't quite know what to say, so she simply nodded, while Ginny giggled quietly at the end of the row. The Girl seemed to get even more excited, and gushed:

"I start Hogwarts in September, I can't wait to go. I want to be in Gryffindor, just like you."

Hermione smiled, and said kindly, "Gryffindor would be lucky to have you."

"Can I have my photo taken with you?" Verity asked suddenly, and then turned a brilliant shade of pink, as if she suddenly felt she had been far too forward.

"Er…um" Hermione stammered, thoroughly lost for words this time. Ginny chose this time to step forward, saying:

"Why don't you let me take the photo, for you?" She said kindly, then added, "And when you get to Hogwarts, you can ask her to sign it – she's Head Girl this year, you know."

Hermione could have killed her. But she smiled happily for the photograph all the same.

After the girl had happily bounded off to find her mother, Hermione turned on Ginny, "Why did you tell her I'd sign it?" she hissed, slapping Ginny across the arm.

Ginny grinned, "I don't know, it felt like a good thing to say at the time. Now can we please leave, we still have things to buy."

An hour later, Ginny had had her fill of Quidditch, and the pair finished gathering their necessities. After visiting the apothecary to replenish their potion supplies, they called into Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes to say hi to George, before returning to the Leaky Cauldron, where they would be meeting Harry, Ron and Andromeda for dinner.

The girls had a couple of hours to kill, so they commandeered a round table at the back, and whiled away the time with a bottle of nettle wine. While they waited for the rest of the party to arrive, Ginny starting quizzing Hermione about the state of her relationship with her brother:

"What happened between you and Ron?" She asked, "At Bill and Fleur's wedding, you two seemed to be making good progress."

Hermione shrugged, "It just never happened. There was always that undercurrent while we were at Hogwarts, but then when things went wrong at the wedding, and we ended up going on the run, all that was put to the background I guess. I mean, Harry, Ron and I had more important things to focus on than our love lives." Hermione said with a harsh laugh. She paused to take a sip of her wine, and Ginny asked:

"So what about now? Now that the war is over?"

Hermione shook her head, "I can't, not now. Things changed for me just before Christmas. When he left us -"

"He did what?" Ginny asked quickly.

"Left… us…" Hermione repeated slowly, "You didn't know. I thought you did. Oh dear, I've just landed him in the shit haven't I?" Hermione said, feeling slightly guilty.

"I think you need to explain." Ginny said bluntly.

"We'd been searching for months, living in the tent, moving from place to place every couple of days, pretty much living off the land. We were cold, we were hungry, we were tired, and we seemed to be hitting dead end after dead end. In the end it got too much for Ron, there was an argument, and he walked out." Hermione explained.

"He came back though," Hermione defended hastily, "He didn't find us right away, because we kept moving, and our protective enchantments were so thorough, but he found us eventually." Hermione paused, then seeing as Ginny couldn't get anymore annoyed at her brother than she already was, Hermione decided to be completely honest.

"But he did leave, and at the time it felt like he abandoned us. We were at our lowest point, and we needed each other more than ever: when it got too tough, he bailed. After that, I can't trust him the same way. I still love him, he's one of my best friends, but we argue a fair amount, and if we were to enter into a relationship, I would be waiting for him to bail when our arguments got too much for him. After last winter, I'd always be waiting for him to bail again, I wouldn't trust that he would stay." Hermione admitted.

Ginny was silent for a moment, then said through clenched teeth: "I am going to murder that son-of-bitch when I see him next."

Hermione laughed, "Ginny relax, it's happened, it's done. Harry and I forgave him, he paid his dues, and he made up for it when he returned. It's time to move on, please don't bring it up. I think all three of us would like to think of the past year as little as possible."

Ginny looked defiant for a moment, then sighed, "Fine." She conceded.

"Thank you. Now, Ron and I, we have established, are a no go. But what about you and Harry?" Hermione asked.

Ginny leaned back in her seat and sipped her drink thoughtfully. "I think Harry and I have ran our course. When Harry broke up with me after Dumbledore's funeral, I knew the next time we could be together again would be after the war, but I had no idea how long that would be. I also knew that Harry would be a very different person when the war was over – we've all changed, we've been through, and seen, too much for us not to change. We had a high-school romance, one that legends are made of. But now, I think it's time to move on. I mean, we had a few moments at Hogwarts, those weeks after the battle, but it was different, it wasn't like before." Ginny explained, shaking her head, "No, I think Harry and I are finished."

Ginny thought for a moment, then asked in a hesitating way, "So, since you and my brother are never going to happen in a million years. What about you and Harry?" She asked slowly.

Hermione laughed consciously, "Harry and me? What made you think that?" She asked.

Ginny shrugged, and smiled, "I don't know, you two just seemed closer than ever after the battle of Hogwarts, and with Teddy in your life now, you seem have to bonded even more. I mean you two always seemed to know what the other was thinking, but recently it seems to have heightened, i think." Ginny supplied truthfully.

Hermione smiled, she couldn't deny any of what Ginny had said.

"Harry and I are simply friends, very good friends, but just friends all the same." Hermione assured her.

Ginny grinned then said, "That's shame, I think you could be good together. And he is good in bed." She added with a wink.

Hermione laughed, and without thinking said: "Yeah, I know."

"You do?" Gin asked, her eyes wide with shock, and her grin momentarily lost.

Hermione bit her lip, and a faint blush spread across her cheek: she couldn't believe she made such a slip-up.

"You do!" Ginny said again, leaning forward, her smile starting to come back, "When did this happen?" she asked.

"Christmas." Hermione admitted, "You're not mad?" she asked, worried.

Ginny grinned, "I'm not I said, Harry and I broke up; I knew he would be different after the war. I had no idea what you guys would be going through, but I knew you wouldn't come out of it the same. I've known for a long time Harry and I wouldn't be getting back together. And to be honest, I thought you would be the girl he would end up with, you and Ron were never quite right – and after what you told me, how he abandoned you," Ginny's temper flared again, but she calmed within a second, "anyway, I had a feeling something would happen between you and Harry."

"It only happened once, it was after Godric's Hollow," Hermione told Ginny, "It was Christmas, we'd had a _really_ bad couple of days, and we just needed comfort, closeness. I think we just needed to forget for a while." Hermione said, remembering the night with a mixture of pleasure and sadness.

Hermione lapsed into silence, and the pair ate quietly for a few minutes, then Ginny suddenly said:

"By the way, how was Saturday? Who were your dinner plans with?"

"Do you remember me telling you about Richard, a couple of years ago?" Hermione asked.

Ginny nodded, "I think so, that muggle guy you've known for years, who you had a bit of thing with over the summer after the Ministry incident?" She clarified.

"Yeah," Hermione nodded, "With him. We went to a new Cocktail bar he bought recently."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up for the second time "He bought a bar?" she asked incredulously. "Just like that? Just out of the blue?"

Hermione laughed, "Yep, pretty much. It's actually a pretty great place, really unique."

Ginny shook her head, "How rich is this guy?" she asked, in semi-rhetoric.

Hermione frowned; she never liked to discuss money, "He has money enough." She said evasively, putting an end to that particular line of communication. Thankfully she was spared any further probing on the subject by the early arrival Andromeda and Teddy.

"This conversation is over," Ginny muttered, as Andromeda approached, "I want to hear all about rich Richard."

Hermione, who hadn't seen Teddy in a few days, now became entirely engrossed by her Godson, taking him from his pram to sit him on her lap, while Ginny and Andromeda exchanged pleasantries.

When Andromeda sat, Hermione joined the conversation, indicating to the numerous bags Andromeda had just set down, she said: "You've been on a spending spree, I see."

Andromeda looked a little guilty, and nodded. "I think I may have over-done it again." She admitted, "It's the second time I've gone to pick up a few things, and come away spending a small fortune. It's all for the manor: a few pillows, throws, some side ornaments, those kinds of things."

"Feminine touches." Ginny supplied, helpfully.

"Exactly!" Andromeda agreed, while Hermione raised her eyebrows glancing back at the mountain of bags.

"That's a lot of feminine touches. Especially if the first pile was as big as that." Hermione said, and Ginny chuckled.

Andromeda smiled guiltily, "The first pile was bigger." She admitted, and Hermione returned her raised-eyebrow look to Andie, causing her to say: "Draco gave me the exact same look, but that place needs a woman's touch." She defended, while Hermione frowned at her first comment, not appreciating Andromeda comparing her to her Nephew, yet again. Ginny, on the other hand, found the comparison hilarious, and laughed rather loud.

Andromeda rolled her eyes at Hermione's frown, and said, "I know you don't appreciate me comparing you with my nephew, but truly you are more like each other than you realise."

Ginny laughed even harder at this, and Hermione decided to keep the conversation moving along, by saying "How is the manor looking? About ready to move in yet?"

Andromeda nodded, "Just little finishing touches, the place looks fantastic – completely different, a lot more positive. All I need to know now is when Narcissa will be released, and I'll move in with Teddy." She finished.

At that moment the boys appeared at the table, and Ginny said: "Perfect timing, ask Harry, he should know."

"Ask me what?" Harry asked, as he took his usual place next to Hermione, promptly reaching out to take Teddy from her. As Hermione handed him over, she caught Ginny's smirk and knowing look. When she caught Hermione's eye, Ginny wiggled her eyebrows as if to say "Just friends? yeah, right."

Hermione scowled at her, then turned back to Harry, "Andie was wondering if Narcissa had a release date." She informed him.

Harry looked across the table and said: "Funnily enough, she got it given to her today. The trials are coming to an end; we have all the information from her we need. She'll be out at the end of next week."

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_**A/N: And another chapter done. I know we didn't see anything of Draco in this one, it's all very much about Hermione. Let me know what you think. I will post the next chapter at some point tomorrow, not much left to right, then it will be edited and uploaded. **_

_**And next chapter we finally make it to September 1st, which means I finally get to bring Draco and Hermione together.**_

_**Until then, if you feel like leaving a review please do :)**_

_**xBx**_


	9. Chapter 9: Returning to Hogwarts

**_A/N: I got here quicker than I thought, yay! And finally, we make it to Hogwarts...well, we make it through the train journey, Hogwarts is next chapter lol_  
**

**_Just a quick thank you to my reviewers, I'm really enjoying all your feedback :D and than you to every one who has read the story so far, I hipe you'll continue to stick with me through the process._**

**_Hope you enjoy the next instalment (I have to apologise for my lack of imagination with the chapter titles, but my mind is just not coming up with anything clever or witty at the moment! lol) :)_**

**_xBx_**

* * *

**~ Chapter 9: Returning to Hogwarts ~**

It was two weeks before Draco was set to return to Hogwarts, and he was anxiously waiting in the newly improved sitting room – Gone were the dark greens and greys that used to adorn the walls, now replaced with warm earthy tones of creams and browns: His aunt had retained the dark leather couches, but brightened them with lighter pillows in shades of greens and browns that complimented the new walls. While Draco paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, his Aunt Andromeda sat patiently on one of the couches, glancing now and then at the antique carriage clock on the mantle-piece. Aurors would be escorting Narcissa to the manor, and should be arriving via floo any time soon. Andromeda had moved in the night before, and Draco had finally met her grandson, Teddy. He realised now, that Teddy was conspicuously absent.

"Where's Teddy?" He asked suddenly.

Andromeda smiled, "I took him to Grimmauld Place early this morning, he's spending the day with Hermione. I believe she spent the night there," Andromeda continued conversationally, Draco only nodded, he wasn't particularly interested in the day-to-day life of Hermione Granger, he was just making conversation.

Before they could lapse back into silence, the fireplace flashed green, and an Auror appeared, spinning in the fireplace. As the wizard stepped out, Andromeda's face split into a smile and Draco recognised Harry Potter.

"About time, Harry." Andromeda said, standing up, "Draco was wearing out the floors with all his pacing."

Harry smiled, "Sorry, last minute paperwork, but we're not late. I hope you haven't been stressing to long?" He said, as he hugged Andromeda. He then turned to Draco and held out his hand,

"Malfoy," he greeted formally, but politely.

Draco shook his hand, returning the civility, "Potter. "

"Your mother will be through in a couple of minutes," Harry assured Draco, then addressed them both.

"Just a couple of quick things: She is now under house arrest – she can move freely about the house and grounds, but she now has a modified version of the Trace on her, so as soon as she steps out of bounds, the ministry will be alerted and a representative will apparate to her location in moments." He warned, then looking particularly at Andromeda he said:

"You don't need to supervise her continuously, twenty-four hours a day. It's enough that you are living in the same house, so we expect you to be in her company a lot of time. But you are free to come and go." He told her.

Andromeda nodded, "Understood."

Harry then addressed Draco, "You should understand that this is for your mother's protection, as well as a court formality." He said, "The fact that your father is helping us, the name's he has given us, it's very common knowledge, which means your father has made a lot of enemies."

Draco nodded, "I had a feeling that would be the case. It's why I haven't left the manor much." He admitted.

"This being said, the ministry is reluctant to give an exact time frame for the house arrest: once the sentence is served, it still might not be safe for your mother to venture out freely, but we'll keep you informed. Narcissa knows all this, already." Harry said, now addressing them both, "but I thought I should make sure you knew everything as well."

At that moment, the fireplace blazed green again, and Narcissa Malfoy stepped out seconds later, on the arm of a ministry official.

Draco took in his mother's appearance quickly: She wasn't in as bad a shape as his father had been after his year inside, but the change was evident. She was pale and gaunt, and looked exhausted, but she managed to give her son a smile as she stepped over to hug him.

Harry cleared his throat, not wanting to interrupt the moment, but not wanting to really witness it either.

"Narcissa, we'll leave you alone now, let you settle yourself back in." He said to her, "A representative form Law Enforcement will check in with you every three weeks." He informed her, then headed to the fireplace, taking out a bag of floo powder from inside his robe.

Narcissa stepped forward, "Thank you, Harry. For everything you have done for me throughout this." She said kindly.

Harry shook his head, "I did what my job required of me." He said, but Narcissa smiled knowingly.

"We have been less than kind to you in the past, I am aware of that. I know you did more than your job required of you, particularly at my trial." She said.

Harry shrugged, "You helped to save my life in the forest, you got me back to the castle relatively unharmed. I can't forget that." He said as a way of explanation, before turning to the fireplace.

The other ministry representative followed Harry directly, and within moments they were alone again.

"Sit," Draco ordered his mother gently, "Mitzi!" He then called out to the room. Moments later an elf appeared at his side.

"Yes, Master Malfoy?" She asked, in a high-pitched squeak.

"My mother has returned, can you bring her some food, anything we have that can be rustled up quick, and some tea, please." Draco glanced at his mother, then looked back at the elf and said as an after-thought "And a large glass of Firewhiskey might be good for her as well, she's looking incredibly pale."

The elf smiled, "Of course sir, I will bring a tray as quickly as possible. Would yourself or Andromeda like anything?"

"Just some tea for us I think, thank you." He said politely, and the elf disappeared, allowing Draco to return to his mother, who was now conversing with Andromeda about the room.

"It's very different." She said honestly, "I thought, at first, I'd stepped out of wrong fireplace."

"Wait until you see the other rooms" Draco said, taking a seat. "They actually look pretty good," he admitted, causing his Aunt to smile.

"I didn't go over board," Andromeda explained, "Just two or three of the principle rooms. I thought I would leave the rest until you returned – something to occupy us while we're confined to the house and grounds. Just so we don't go stir-crazy."

Narcissa laughed weakly, and looked around again, "It is very different to what Lucius had done with the place. But I do quite like it. I suppose it would be good to do the house over, symbolic of a fresh start I suppose." She said thoughtfully.

She then turned to her son and the pair talked about his summer, and his plans. Draco told her his intention of returning to Hogwarts, and his reasons behind it, and when they had exhausted that topic (which didn't take too long) Andromeda told her about her grandson, whom she could talk about for hours. When Mitzi returned with a tray of food, Draco and Andromeda, allowing for Narcissa to simply eat the best food she had eaten in weeks, carried the conversation and Draco was pleased to see some of Narcissa's colour coming back as she ate.

Over the next couple of weeks Draco saw a marked improvement of his mother's health, and with Andromeda as her daily companion he began to see a different side to his mother: she was no longer as guarded in her manners as she had been with his father, she laughed more freely, she spoke more, and she apparently shared Andromeda's passion of renovating. Draco was becoming rather thankful that he was to return to Hogwarts in a couple of day's time; he had had enough of colour wheels and fabric charts to last him a lifetime.

###

The night before Hermione returned to Hogwarts, she spent the evening after dinner with her Father down in their wine cellar. After decanting some scotch for the library at the large wooden table, the pair had moved to the bar, where Anthony began rearranging the fridges, while Hermione sat on one of the stools.

"I can't marry Richard, dad." She said suddenly, taking a last ditch attempt at making at least one of her parents see sense. "After everything that has happened over the past year, I'm a completely different person than when this engagement was first talked of." Hermione told her father, honestly.

Anthony sighed, "You weren't always completely against the idea of marrying him" He pointed out.

"No, I wasn't" she agreed honestly, "but I never really took the thought seriously. He was my first love, and the way mother spoke about it, she made it sound like my destiny, and it was hard to say no to her: she made it sound like a fairy-tale. But daddy, fairy-tales are bull:" She stated frankly, causing him to let out a snort with a shake of his head.

Hermione carried on, ignoring the sound: "They're full of false-hopes and empty promises. I've got caught up in 'destiny' and prophecies, and 'what's-meant-to-be', and it's not beautiful. It's cruel, and it's ugly and it's hard. And now I want to be in control of my life. Now I have a life, and I know I'm going to live it. I survived, and now I want to do what _I_ want to do, not what is expected of me-"

Here, Hermione's father cut her off, smiling, "Hermione, darling, you're starting to babble." Hermione laughed consciously, her father continued, "Take a breath, and why don't you go grab us some of those butterbeers you rave about. I'm growing quite fond of them."

Hermione smiled, took out her wand, and summoned a couple of bottles. Her father rolled his eyes, "Would it kill you to walk ten steps?"

Hermione laughed, "No, but why make extra work, magic is quicker and easier." She reminded him, opening the bottles, and handing one to her father, "Cheers." She said, and took a sip and then continued with a sigh.

"I just don't understand why Mother is so persistent in the match, when I'm so against it?" Hermione voiced "I thought that once she saw how Richard and I are together, how we're more friends than lovers now, that she would start to come around, but she seems more determined than ever." Hermione complained; her father sighed.

"She has her reasons. And she believes that this will make you happy, in the long run. I think she is still under the impression that you two are a happy couple, like the last time we saw you together. Sometimes we still have to remind ourselves that we've been absent for a year." Her father tried to explain, the he asked,

"Is there somebody else? Is that why you are so intent on breaking the engagement? Are you seeing someone in the wizarding world? Harry or Ron? I know you talk about them a lot,"

Hermione laughed and shook her head, "No daddy. Ron and I had our moments, a couple of years ago," she admitted to him: she had always been entirely open with her father, and she didn't see why now should be any different.

"I think our friends rather expected us to be together, especially his family: It would join us all together very neatly, Ron and myself, Harry and Ginny. Harry and I are already part of the Weasley clan, but pairing us with the youngest Weasley's would make us truly part of the family, I guess." She explained, "There was something there, between Ron and I, but it never seemed to be anything more than a spark – it never ignited. Throughout our last year at school there was an undercurrent of feelings I guess, but it never came to anything. And then Dumbledore died, our situations changed, and we knew we wouldn't be returning, and reality got in the way I guess. There was still a little something there, I think, when we went on the run, but things changed at Christmas: when he left, everything changed between us." She added quietly.

Her father gave her a quizzical look, this was the first she had spoken to him about anything that happened the past year in any kind of detail, and Hermione caught the look, "Don't ask questions, please. All you need to know was that due to certain circumstances, our dynamic changed. After that, after Ron disappeared Harry and I grew fairly close, I mean we've always been close – we've always had a deeper connection than Ron and I, I believe, though there was never anything romantic. But when it was just the two of us, over Christmas, we had our moments, I guess. I think it was a lot to do with comfort, more than anything. We certainly rely on each other, we're very comfortable with each other, and can tell each other anything and everything, but there's not really any romance there." She said truthfully.

"So with Richard, you've just fallen out of love?" Her father asked, trying to clarify his daughter's feelings

Hermione shrugged, "To be honest, I don't think I was ever in love with him, not truly. Don't get me wrong; he's a nice guy. He's charming, he's smart – not quite at my level, but still pretty intelligent" Her father laughed, and Hermione give him a small smirk and continued, "He's good looking, and funny, he has all the qualities any woman would want. But there's something missing. I don't feel that connection that I thought I did the last year – too much has happened in my life, too much has changed, I've changed. And he's a muggle." She stated.

Her father took mock offence, "and what, pray tell, is wrong with muggles?"

Hermione laughed, "Nothing, but come on. How do you think he's going to react when he finds out I'm a witch? I doubt he's going to take it well."

Her father laughed, "There is something in that, I grant you. But you never know until you try him, he could surprise you."

"Well I certainly wouldn't be able to keep it from him, not when I'll be working at the Ministry full time."

"So you do want to work there?" Her father asked, "What about joining us? Like we originally planned? You need to be prepared to take over."

"You and mother have plenty of years left in you yet. Once I get my career on track, my hours won't be non-stop. After a few years I'll be able to take time out and juggle both. And lets face it, the only work I would be doing would be admin. I'd be running the place from the outside. All that I can do from home, of an evening." She explained.

"So you're not intending to abandon the business all together?"

"Of course not!" Hermione assured him, "I know how hard the both of you have worked to set it up. I know how much you have thrown into it, believe me, I wouldn't want to loose all the hard work you've done. But lets face it, daddy, I'm not a dentist. I'm a witch. I need to make my own career. And I need a partner in my life who will accept my career choices, and understand them. They need to fully understand my past. They need to have some idea of what I've been through the past couple of years – and the only people who could even begin to understand, are those who lived through the same regime." Hermione told him.

Her father nodded in understanding, "In other words, you need a wizard, not a muggle."

Hermione smiled sadly, "Exactly. I just wish Mother could understand that. But you know her, she's more practical, and less of the romantic."

Anthony reached across the bar and took his daughter's hand reassuringly, "I will talk to your mother, but it's complicated. It's a long standing engagement, we're going to have to have a good reason to break it, and we can't offend our friends."

"It hasn't been that long, you only mentioned it to me a little over a year ago," Hermione countered, to which Anthony gave a non-committal shrug.

"But you'll try?" Hermione asked desperately, a ray of hope beginning to shine.

"I'll see what I can do." Anthony said, smiling sadly.

Hermione beamed, "Thank you dad." She said, standing up to move around the bar and hug him. "I should head to bed, tomorrow is going to be a long day." She said.

Hermione went to bed that night with a great sense of relief, and woke up the next morning smiling. Although Hermione was intending to apparate to the King's Cross, she was still up early, intending to be fully ready to go with plenty of time. After breakfast she triple checked her trunk, making sure she had everything on her list. She was feeling like she was forgetting something terribly important, at the back of her mind she knew she used to take something else extra to her trunk, after a moment she smiled.

"Crookshanks" she muttered to herself shaking her head. During her years absence, Hermione had left crookshanks in the care of Ginny, at the Burrow, and he had seemed so happy and content there this summer, Hermione decided to leave him there this year also – he would have no gnomes at Hogwarts to terrorize and Hermione felt Crookshanks would resent her for taking such an ample pleasure from his life.

As Hermione would be arriving directly onto the platform, and would not be negotiating through crowds of muggles, she decided to dress directly into her uniform. Just as she was fastening her robe, Victoria came into her room.

"You might want to take that off," she said directly, and Hermione gave her a quizzical look, "Richard is here." Victoria explained.

Hermione's shoulders slumped, wordlessly she removed the robe revealing her new take on the standard uniform underneath: A simple, high-waist back pencil skirt, with a white fitted shirt tucked into it – it was an outfit originally purchased for a business meeting she had attended this summer with her mother, and as it fit the school requirements, she decided to get her wear out of it this year at school.

Victoria now noticed the simple black ballet-flats Hermione was wearing and rolled her eyes. She silently went into her daughters closet and came out two seconds later with a pair of black pumps with a three-inch heel.

"They will look much better, and perfectly acceptable for school." Victoria told her daughter.

Hermione shook her head, but refrained from arguing, instead she kicked off her flats, tossing them into her school bag with her tie, slipped into the heels, and leaving her robe on her bed she followed her mother down to the drawing room.

"I hope this won't take long, it's past ten, I will need to leave soon." Hermione said.

Victoria shrugged, "I don't know, he said it would be quick, he was just passing. He's waiting for you in there," Victoria said, gesturing to the door on their right,

"your father and I are in the office, make sure you say goodbye before you leave." Victoria said before descending down to the ground floor.

Hermione took a calming breath and entered the drawing room with a smile.

"I didn't expect to see you today." She said as she entered.

Richard grinned, "I had to catch you before you left. That's your uniform?" He asked.

Hermione laughed, "In part, there is a school tie I need to wear, but I'll put that on when I get there. Is that why you're here? To critique my uniform?" she asked, probing him to get to the point.

"I have something for you." He said, taking the hint. "I was hoping to have gave you it sooner, but it wasn't ready, I had to go pick it up this morning." Richard pulled a box out his pocket and Hermione's mouth went dry, she felt she knew what this was.

"I had to make it official before you went back to school, you know." He said, Lifting the lid to reveal, as Hermione had expected, a magnificent engagement ring.

Staring up at Hermione was a large, five-carat cushion-cut ruby, set on a bed of diamonds, which trailed down a platinum band.

Hermione couldn't find any words as Richard removed the ring from its box and placed it on Hermione's finger. "Perfect fit." He commented with a smile.

Hermione stared at it; it looked even bigger on her finger. "Wow," she whispered, not sure what else to say. The ring was a little ostentatious for her liking, but she couldn't deny it's beauty.

"I wanted to give you something with colour, instead of just a plain diamond. I picked a ruby because of what it symbolises: it's said to be the most powerful gemstone, it brings contentment, peace, and passion; it's a symbol of love, vitality, and royalty. I think it fits us perfectly." He said. "And, I know you love your Tudor history: Henry VIII would give rubies to the women he courted-"

"Because they symbolised a virtuous woman." Hermione finished, with a smile – she knew Richard was being incredibly romantic so she didn't finish her sentence out loud. But she couldn't help but mentally comment that the women Henry had given rubies to were most likely the complete opposite of virtuous – at the Tudor court, a ruby seemed to symbolise a mistress he enjoyed so much that he intended to make her his next wife.

"You're quiet." Richard said after a moment.

"I'm sorry," Hermione mentally shook herself, and put a smile on her face, "Hectic morning. Thank you." She said. "The ring is beautiful, thank you. But I really need to go." She said, glancing at the clock, it was now ten-thirty.

Richard laughed, "Of course, I'm sorry, I don't want you to be late. And I should be going otherwise I will be late for a meeting" He handed her the box, saying "Just in case you need to take it off for any of your lessons."

Hermione took it and smiled, thinking she would be taking it off long before her first lesson, but she only said, "Thank you."

"Alright, I know, I've kept you long enough. And I said goodbye to you properly yesterday, so I'll leave you to it." He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips, it wasn't intense, but there was an undercurrent of emotion from him, but still Hermione felt no spark.

Richard left quickly, leaving Hermione standing in front of the fireplace simply staring at her left hand. After her talk with her father last night, she had been hopeful about the engagement being called off. But now, that hope had vanished and suddenly a wedding next June seemed frighteningly real to her.

Hermione didn't realise how long she had been standing there, until she heard her Mother's voice from the doorway.

"Hermione? It's nearly ten forty-five. You need to be going." Victoria said.

"Crap!" Hermione bolted back into the present and whirled around. "Give me two minutes to get my trunk and I'll meet you in the entrance hall."

Hermione dashed back up to her room, tossed the ring box absent minded into her school bag, threw her robe back on and slung her bag over her shoulder. She picked up her wand from the table and levitated her trunk so that it preceded her as she dashed back downstairs.

In the hallway she said a hasty goodbye to her parents, giving them each a quick hug and kiss, and promising to write when she got there, before finally Disapparating.

Hermione appeared on the platform with ten minutes to spare, looking eagerly around; she finally caught a glimpse of a tall, dark head in the company of multiple redheads near the front of the train. She immediately pushed herself through the crowds to join Harry and the Weasleys, it was Harry who spotted her first:

"Hermione! Finally!" He said with relief.

"I'm sorry, there was a delay." She said evasively, dropping her trunk next to Harry and giving attention directly to Teddy, who was resting contentedly in Harry's arms, and sporting Harry's emerald eyes.

"Geez, 'Mione." Said Ron, who had come to see her, as well as his sister, off. "I've never known you to be cutting so fine."

"Leave her be, she's here now." Ginny said, "You can stop fretting."

As Ginny began to say her goodbyes to her family, Harry spoke quietly, "Is everything alright?" he asked, "You look a little flustered."

Hermione smiled, and went to take Teddy into her arms, "I'm fine, just rushed. I lost track of time."

As Harry handed Teddy over, Hermione's left sleeve of her robe fell back over her wrist displaying the ostentatious ring. A moment later it was covered again, but not before Harry had noticed it; Hermione was too busy cooing over her Godson to notice Harry's frown. By the time Hermione looked up, Harry had replaced his frown with a smile, deciding Hermione would tell him about the apparent engagement ring when she was ready.

"I can't believe I'm not going to see you until Christmas. It's going to be so strange, and I'm going to miss Teddy so much, I've gotten so used to spending nearly every day with him." She told him sadly.

Harry grinned, "I thought about that, and when you find out the dates for Hogsmeade weekends, let me know. I'll clear it with Andie and I'll bring Teddy up to Hogsmeade for the day."

Hermione beamed "You're amazing." She said simply.

Before she could say anything else, Ginny called out to her, "Come on Hermione, you don't want to miss the train" She said, making her way to a carriage.

"I know," whined Hermione as she handed Teddy, who had now changed his hair to emulate Hermione's, back to Harry. "But I don't want to leave him, I'm not going to see him for god knows how long. It's harder than I thought it would be," She admitted, picking up her trunk.

George laughed, "Yeah, Hermione you can't be late: that's not the example the Head Girl should be setting. Now put your love child down, Harry will take good care of him, I'm sure." He joked, earning a smack from his mother, as Hermione turned with a pained look on her face, "Seriously, George?! Did you have to say it so loud! There's going to be enough gossip about me as it is, without you adding unnecessary, and false, fuel to the fire." Hermione complained.

"Ignore him," Harry intoned soothingly, bringing Hermione's attention back to him and Teddy. "Don't worry about the gossip: you and Ginny will set them right in no time. And anyway, a lot of them will already know about Remus and Dora leaving behind a son, they'll put two-and-two together easy enough. Now go, before it leaves without you." Harry intoned fondly.

Hermione smiled at his reassurances, leant over his arm to kiss Teddy goodbye, then stood up on her toes to kiss Harry's cheek, not realising the perfect family tableau they were exhibiting, and already starting the gossip she had wanted to avoid.

"Hermione! Come. On!" Ginny reiterated from the train, "The train will be pulling out any second!"

"Okay, okay, I'm coming." She said, finally tearing herself away. After saying a hasty good bye to Ron, George, Molly and Arthur, she rushed to the carriage door Ginny was holding open for her, and jumped on board. Ginny let the door swing closed behind her, and Hermione turned to wave out of the window just as the train bellowed into motion.

As they pulled from the station, Ginny asked: "Are you heading straight to the front? Or do you want to come and find Luna with me?"

"I ought to go to the front, and Luna's deputy, isn't she going to be at the front as well?" She asked, still a little breathless from the non stop rushing of the last fifteen minutes.

Ginny shook her head, "She said she'd find us a compartment first, then head down. I'll see you later on, then, once you've finished your duties. Good luck." She added with a wicked grin.

Hermione frowned "Thanks." She said with a laugh, before parting.

Hermione made her way to the head's compartment, having entered the train at the back of the first carriage her walk wasn't long, and she entered the compartment before the last of the carriages had even left the station.

Draco Malfoy was already seated next to the window, his head in a book, his customary smirk no longer a permanent feature on his face, and looking quite at ease.

He looked up as Hermione entered, and greeted her without the malice she had become accustomed to in previous years. "Morning Granger." He said simply, returning to his book.

"Good morning," Hermione replied, dropping her schoolbag on the seat and lifting her trunk into the luggage rack.

"Quite the family unit you portrayed on the platform, you certainly got tongues wagging. Though I'm assuming it was your godson, Teddy, you were cooing over, and not your illegitimate love child with Harry." He commented, Hermione could here the laughter in his voice, though again no trace of malice seemed to underline it.

Hermione sighed and turned back to face Draco, "Yes, that was Teddy. I'm assuming you've met him by now?" she asked trying to be polite.

Draco nodded the affirmative, "Quite a talent the child has. I noticed his hair was your colour once you left his side." Draco looked up from his book, "It seems his favourite eye colour is green. At least, that was the colour he chose this morning." Here Draco's smirk came into play. "You can imagine what people will think when they see _that_ combination."

Hermione tried to frown, but she couldn't help a small smile, as she had pointed this out to Harry the first time Teddy chose such a combination.

She nodded "I know," she admitted, "I've said as much before, to Harry. Sometimes he does look like he could be our child."

Draco shrugged, and looked back at his book, "Take it as a compliment. Teddy only emulates the characteristics of those he likes. I'm sure you'll be delighted to hear that he's never once emulated any of my characteristics." He said quietly, and Hermione thought she detected a hint of disappointment.

Hermione stood back up, and removed her robe to cool down, still feeling slightly flustered from all the rushing around, saying as she did, "That's probably because he doesn't know you. He's got to know Harry and I very well the past couple of months. Once he gets to know you, I'm sure he'll go through a blonde phase." She told him truthfully, as she folded her robe and placed it over the back of the seat, before hunting in her school bag, for her tie.

Draco looked up, surprised at the sincere reassurance without any trace of sarcasm; he was sure she would have said something scathing, if anything at all. He then couldn't fail to notice the figure hugging attire she was dressed in, looking more like a business woman than a school girl, in clothes that spoke quality and expense to the trained eye. Draco couldn't help but survey her, looking her quickly up and down, recalling Blaise's comments from earlier in the summer: Granger did have a very good figure. He mentally shook himself, before his thoughts went any further, and he was about to comment on her recent lack of hostility, when he noticed the giant stone glinting on her left hand, which was holding open her bag. He raised his eyebrows, then smirked,

"Nice rock Granger." He commented,

Hermione turned to him, in confusion, "What?" she asked, momentarily forgetting her hunt.

"The ring," he nodded toward her hand, "And on a very important finger too, you really are going for a proper family unit aren't you?" He smirked.

Hermione looked down at her left hand, and her calm suddenly transformed into frustration,

"Bollocks" she stated, as she tried to pry the ring from her finger.

Draco chuckled, "Not wanting people to know that you and Potter are getting hitched? I suppose it will only fuel the baby gossip." He assumed.

This made Hermione look up in even more confusion, "What?" Hermione didn't know what to say, how did he ever reach that conclusion?

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but that looks like an engagement ring. You and Harry looked quite cosy on the platform, and a rock that size, a ruby no less, something tells me Weasley wouldn't be able to afford that. But maybe I'm wrong." Draco shrugged, taking in Hermione's surprise at the suggestion.

"I'm not engaged to Harry," Hermione assured him, returning to her struggle of removing the ring.

"Weasley has more money than I thought, he kept that fortune quiet" Draco said, with a hint of approval in his voice,

"Not engaged to Ron either." Hermione answered, rolling her eyes, not looking up from her hand, and beginning to mutter obscenities under her breath, at the ring's refusal to budge.

"So who gave you the ring?" Draco asked, his curiosity spiked to the point that he actually put down his book to become fully absorbed in the conversation.

"It's really none of your business, Malfoy – yes! Finally!" she cried, as the ring came loose. She dug out the box from her bag and placed the ring in, closed the lid, and threw it carelessly into her school bag, earning her a raised eyebrow from Draco. She pulled her tie from the bottom of her bag, and began to tie it loosely, around her neck, noticing halfway through the process that Malfoy was still looking at her inquisitively.

"Yes?" she queried tensely, "Why are you so interested in the ring anyway?"

Draco held up his hands in a defensive manner, "Just making conversation. I am intrigued now though, as to whom else the mystery fiancé is, if it's not Potter or Weasley. Maybe some rich muggle you've been keeping a secret?"

Hermione cut him off before he could continue; raising a hand to signal for his silence, Hermione spoke clearly and calmly: "Can we please drop it? No one knows, and no one is going to know. As far as I'm concerned it's a farce, it's not legit. So you can forget you ever saw that ring, because as far as everyone here is concerned, I am not engaged."

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath, after a couple of minutes she felt some of the tension leave her body.

Draco shrugged his shoulders and left Hermione alone, returning once again to his book; if she didn't want to talk he wasn't going to force it, even though his curiosity had been ignited. After a while, Hermione opened her eyes, and spoke.

"We have to speak to the prefects at some point, when do you want to go?" She asked, all traces of her past anger and hostility completely dropped from her manner and tone.

Draco put down his book, and looked at his watch, "We've only been going twenty minutes, give them another ten?" He suggested, equally as polite as Hermione had been, determined to put their previous conversation to the back of his mind for a later date.

"Let them catch up on their gossip after the summer. Then we might as well get it over with. That will give them a long, uninterrupted train journey to gossip about the scandal of my return." He finished dryly, causing Hermione to laugh.

"You won't be the only one: I'm sure they'll gossip about me too." Hermione assured him, "I've been MIA for over a year, and the rumours I have heard about what I apparently got up to are incredible."

"Speaking of, I've heard a few rumours myself. And I'd love to know the truth." Draco smirked.

"That's nice to know" Hermione said, echoing his smirk in return, her look letting him know she was not intending to share the truth any time soon. Draco gave a curt nod, letting Hermione know he fully understood her meaning, and refrained from pressing the subject.

Hermione continued after a moment of thought, "I wonder who'll be the source of more gossip?" She asked thoughtfully, "The returning son of notorious Death Eaters, whose trials were front page news -" Hermione started with a tone of derision.

"Or the Gryffindor Princess; one-third of the Golden Trio, and a saviour of the Wizarding World." Draco finished her sentence, echoing her tone, and Hermione laughed again.

"Rather an eccentric choice for the head positions I think," she said, shaking her head.

Draco shrugged, "Not as eccentric as the choices for our Deputies" Draco countered: right on cue the compartment door opened, and Luna Lovegood appeared, closely followed by Zacharias Smith.

"We've been sat in there with the prefects for fifteen minutes now," Zacharias complained, "Are you two going to show your faces anytime soon? Or are we going to do your jobs for you?"

Hermione scowled; she had never been a huge fan of Zacharias Smith, and she was currently in no humour for his self-assumed superiority over everyone.

"Smith," she said, shortly, "Our letters may have said we all have the same level of authority, but we-" she indicated between herself and Draco, "are your social superiors in age talent and understanding. So get a little less superiority, and a little more respect in you tone when you speak to us." As she spoke, Hermione stood up and tossed her bag up onto the luggage rack, then began to pull her robes back over her uniform.

Draco couldn't help but smirk at the eloquently, yet waspishly spoken put-down, particularly as she had even included him as an equal superior. Zacharias, however, looked less than happy at being spoken to in such a way and looked ready to argue. Deciding to diffuse the situation, Draco stood up and said, curtly:

"Smith. Zip it. Granger has a point, and she put it more politely than I was going to. Now, lets go talk to the prefects, and then maybe I can have this carriage back to myself." He said, a hint of his old disdain colouring his tones again, he signalled for the others to precede him out of the compartment. After the two deputies departed, Draco stood aside to let Hermione pass first.

"After you." He prompted politely. Hermione was slightly surprised: first he backed her up, now he was being a gentleman. She gave him a friendly smile and followed Luna into the next compartment, where the prefects were gathered. So far, being in Draco Malfoy's company hadn't been nearly as bad as she anticipated: granted, there were moments when she couldn't help but think of what had happened in his home, months ago, and she was painfully conscious of the mudblood scar, but aside from that, there seemed to be nothing but civility between them - that, and an apparent joint dislike of Zacharias Smith.

The briefing of the prefects took less than half an hour: The heads introduced themselves quickly, and then Hermione gave a quick overview of their expected duties throughout the day, before moving onto a brief explanation of their duties during term.

"Your duties throughout the school year are pretty simple." Hermione told them, "Patrolling the corridors on an evening is the main one, then of course helping with decorating the castle for Halloween and Christmas."

Draco took this moment to put himself forward into the conversation, before Hermione could take complete control.

"We will have meetings once a week, Monday lunchtimes, where we will discuss any issues that arose the previous week, and anything that needs particular attention in the coming week. We won't hold a meeting tomorrow, frankly there's no need: there will be nothing to tell you tomorrow that you haven't heard today. An initial rota for your corridor duties will be up on you notice boards tomorrow morning. If there are any major issues seek one of us out, but if you can handle the issue for one week, save your complaints for the first meeting."

Draco said this in such a way as to intimate that saving the complaining would be the better option of the two, unless the prefects were determined to test his patiences in the first week. Draco turned to Hermione, "Anything to add?"

"Yes, actually." Hermione said, thoughtfully. "I think it's pretty safe to assume that Inter-House Unity is going to be key this year, which means that you guys – and us – will all be expected to lead the example. In other words we _all_ need to put aside our differences and get along. Or at the very least, appear to get along."

With nothing else to say, and no questions to answer, the four heads left the compartment. Smith headed directly back up the train without a backward glance, while Draco returned to the head's compartment. Luna and Hermione lingered only momentarily, for Hermione to say she would join her and Ginny further down the train in five minutes, Luna then followed in Zacharias' footsteps, and Hermione turned to follow Draco.

When Hermione returned to her compartment, Blaise Zabini, who had obviously come down to the front while Draco and herself were briefing the prefects, greeted her.

"Granger," he greeted, friendly enough, with a grin on his face. Hermione was a little taken aback by the open friendliness, but she hid it well.

"Will you be joining us for the journey?" he asked conversationally.

Hermione smiled and took her robe back off – the prefect compartment had been stuffy and over-crowded and she was now far too warm to sit in her school robe.

"No," she said, tossing her robe aside, and stepping up onto the seat to reach the luggage wrack. "Just grabbing my bag, then I'm going to join Luna and Ginny." She informed them, as she rumagged in the rack.

As Hermione had stepped up onto the seat, Blaise had cocked his to the side and openly admired her figure with a grin. Draco rolled his eyes when he saw him nodding in approval at what he saw as his eyes raked from head to foot, and when Blaise showed no sign of desisting Draco picked up his book and hit him hard across the shoulder.

Blaise let out a yell of pain, grabbing his shoulder he exclaimed "What the fuck, man?! What did you do that for?"

Draco simply gave him a less than impressed look, as Hermione stepped down from the seat with her bag in hand. She shook her head at the sudden drop in maturity level, "I'm not even going to bother to ask," she said picking up her robe, "Enjoy your journey, _boys_." She said politely, with only a hint of patronisation on the stressing of the last word.

As Hermione made her way up the train she was acutely aware of the stares and whispers that followed her; while she figured it was something she would have to get used to, she was still extremely thankful that Ginny and Luna had managed to grab a compartment in the front half of the train, and Hermione could escape the stares relatively quickly. The rest of the journey to Hogsmeade Station passed away much as any other journey she had taken to school, though it felt incredibly strange to be undertaking it without Harry and Ron.

When they had reached the station, Hermione smiled as she stepped onto the platform, hearing the familiar sound of Hagrid, calling out "Firs' years! Follow me!" Suddenly, all the dramas of the past couple of months with regards to her parents and Richard, all seemed to fade away as if they had been nothing but a dream and she was filled with a sense of hope and optimism at being fully back where she felt she belonged. She led Ginny and Luna towards the waiting carriages, but stopped short when she came up to the first carriage, staring at the winged horses she could now clearly see harnessed up.

This was the first time Hermione had truly seen a Thestral, she should have expected it, but she couldn't help the lump that formed in her throat as she remembered the main instance that resulted in this ability to see. Within seconds she had gathered herself together and hopped into the first vacant carriage followed immediately by Ginny and Luna.

"Are you alright?" Ginny asked while they waited fro the carriages to fill.

Hermione nodded, "It was just a bit of a shock seeing the Thestrals." She admitted.

Luna, who had been able to see them since her first day at Hogwarts took to staring dreamily out of the window, but Ginny nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, it was a bit strange. But not surprising, we saw our fair share of death in the final battle." She said quietly. "Colin was the one I remember vividly though," Ginny said suddenly, "I was fighting near him when it happened."

Ginny looked up at Hermione, and asked quietly, "What about you, who did you see?"

Hermione looked at Ginny, "Severus." She answered barely louder than a whisper, as three more students climbed into their carriage. Ginny let the conversation drop, not wanting to discuss it in front of the younger students. Hermione turned to look out of the window, as the door was closed upon the and the carriage jerked into motion. Hermione's caught a passing glimpse of Hogsmeade as they pulled away from the station, and her mind instantly took her back to the Shrieking Shack, where she watched the Headmaster's life flow from his body. Hermione took a breath ad cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the lump that had returned there: as she watched Hogwarts grow clearer the nearer they approached, the excitement she had been feeling at returning suddenly disappeared, and was replaced with anxiety, and for the first time Hermione started to regret her decision to return – perhaps this wasn't the right thing to do after all.

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_**A/N: There it is, I finally made it to Hogwarts, where the real fun can begin. I will be starting work on the next chapters at the end of the weak, but I've been neglecting some other stuff while I finished these updates, so once I get those sorted, I will get back to it.**_

_**Until then, I hope you've all enjoyed the story so far, please review, and let me know your thoughts :)**_

_**xBx**_


	10. Chapter 10: WelcomeHome?

**_A/N: Finally, it's here! Sorry for the delay, life took over for a little while._  
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**_Thank you to everyone who has read so far, and and even bigger thank you to all my reviewers! You guys are amazing!_**

**_xBx_**

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**~ Chapter 10: Welcome...home? ~**

By the time the carriages had pulled up outside Hogwarts, Hermione had managed to push back the memories trying desperately to break free, and she was now confidently wearing her well practiced smile, giving the impression everything was perfect with her, and she had not a care in the world. As she vacated the carriage and caught another glimpse of the thestrals, she refused to think of Severus' death and the many others that had occurred that night; as she walked up into the grand entrance hall she wouldn't let her mind see the carnage that had filled the space that night only a few months ago, and when she walked between the tables in the Great Hall, to find a seat at the Gryffindor table, she ignored the memories of the lifeless bodies of so many friends and peers that had been laid out there.

Hermione and Ginny found seats roughly halfway down the table, where they joined three of the returning seventh years. Hermione sat down next to Parvati Patil, facing Neville Longbottom and Dean Thomas.

"Blimey, Hermione." Dean said as Ginny and Hermione took their seats next to one another. "We didn't think you'd be coming back."

Hermione looked at him in confusion, "Why do you say that?" She asked.

It was Neville who answered, "We were just discussing possible returnees: We thought you of all people would be accepted into the ministry without taking your NEWT's and even if you did need to get your NEWT's we assumed you'd sit them in August."

"Yeah," seconded Parvati, "With your brain, you could have taken them in our sixth year." She said. "But I'm glad you're back all the same." She added with a genuine smile.

Hermione smiled at the compliments, "I could have been accepted into an internship at the ministry," She admitted to them, "But I wanted to finish my education properly. Plus I wasn't sure which department I really want to work in." She told them – it was partly true at least, but they didn't need to know the real reason for her return.

Before she could say anything else, the Great Hall feel silent as Headmistress McGonagall stood to begin the sorting ceremony. Hagrid led the new batch of first years down the hall, all looking rather nervous and intimidated, before taking his own seat at the table. Hermione smiled and waved discreetly, as filch was placing the old familiar three-legged stool carrying the worn and frayed Sorting Hat.

Within moments the old tear at the brim opened and the Sorting Hat began it's usual song. Hermione smiled as she listened: this year's song was more light-hearted than the last few she had heard, however there was a blatant warning at the end about remembering our past mistakes and moving forward with unity. And instead of dwelling too much on the differences that separates the four houses, the hat instead devoted a few lines to their similarities, as if to impress upon the students that they were, in fact, all very much alike.

The sorting took longer than usual, having an extra handful of students who weren't invited to the fold last year. Glancing at the tiny first years, Hermione soon recognised the girl that had introduced herself at Flourish and Blotts. When the girl's name was called, Ginny likewise recognised her and gave Hermione a playful nudge in the ribs, giggling mischievously when the Sorting Hat shouted "Gryffindor!"

As verity almost ran to the Gryffindor table, she caught Hermione's eye and waved. Hermione smiled and waved back politely. Neville and Dean shot her questioning looks, to which Hermione just shook her head, but Ginny hissed with a grin:

"That's Hermione's super-fan." Hermione simply glared at her and elbowed her in the ribs.

Finally, the last students took their place at their new house table, and McGonagall stood to address the school.

"To our new intakes, welcome to Hogwarts and to returning students, welcome back. Last year was a hard year, the school was more like a prison than a home, and we suffered many losses, but we survived. This year we move forward, we start again." She told them bracingly,

"Before we begin with the feast I have a few start of term notices: As _everyone_ should know by now, the Forbidden Forest – as it's name suggests – is in fact out of bounds. For your own safety, please do not venture in there." She said with a hint of a sigh: Every year this reminder was given, and every year someone ended up in there, and McGonagall was starting to get a little tired of it, especially as the main culprits tended to be a certain group of Gryffindors.

Hermione Ginny and Neville exchanged guilty grins; they had ended up in there on various occasions – Hermione more often than the others, and they knew this reminder was particularly aimed at them.

"We have a couple of new staff appointments" McGonagall continued, returning to her usual brisk tone.

"Allow me to introduce Professor Allegra Emerald, our new Muggle Studies teacher." A polite patter of applause went around the hall as a middle-aged woman stood with a shy smile. McGonagall continued as Professor Emerald retook her seat.

"And secondly, Professor Avery Fidelis, who has agreed to take on the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, as well as taking over my role as Head of Gryffindor House."

There was the same polite applause as before as a man who looked to be in his mid-forties, stood as he was announced – from what Hermione could see, he was in relatively good shape and well dressed, he looked like an active individual, and Hermione wondered vaguely what his previous occupation had been.

"What do you reckon is going to happen to this one?" Dean asked dryly, under the cover of the applause.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, quietly and quickly.

"The jobs cursed, isn't it?" Neville reminded her, joining in the conversation.

Hermione shook her head, "Not anymore. Tom Riddle cursed the job when he was refused it. Now he's dead, the curse should have lifted." She told them, forgetting that not everyone knew this piece of information that she had known for over a year now.

Ginny, Parvati, Neville and Dean turn to stare at her.

"How do you know that?" Parvati hissed, wide-eyed. Hermione was about to reply when she caught the Headmistresses eye.

"Shhh." Hermione scolded her friends, giving McGonagall an apologetic look, as the Professor continued.

"Also, as I am now your new Headmistress, Professor Flitwick has agreed to step up to the role of Deputy Headmaster, as well as continuing his role as the Head of Ravenclaw." Again, this announcement was followed with more applause.

"This year, Hogwarts will once again be what it was meant to be: A safe haven to train the next generation of witches and wizards. And now, I know you will all be hungry after such a long day, therefore eat." She commanded while raising her hands and the five long tables suddenly filled with the most extravagant of feasts, that only Hogwarts could produce.

"Could you pass me the stuffed mushrooms, please Hermione." Parvati asked, signalling the dish at Hermione's elbow.

Hermione wrinkled her nose as she passed the dish, and Ginny laughed.

"I thought you loved stuffed mushrooms." Ginny said, as Parvati gave her thanks.

"I did. But after living off nothing _but_ mushrooms for six months, if I never saw them again it would be too soon." Hermione said, reaching for the bowl of mash potato that was in front of her, looking forward to a hearty meal of pure comfort food.

Dean nodded his agreement, "I know exactly what you mean," he said, pushing away the fish dish that was next to him, "I've had enough salmon to last me several lifetimes." He said, "Pass over the steak and ale pie, Nev. I've missed that like you wouldn't believe."

As the group began to eat, Hermione carried on the conversation they had previously started before the sorting took over:

"So, what about you three? How come you decided to return?" She asked.

"Well, I was on the run, same as you, last year." Dean spoke first, "So I didn't really have much of a choice."

"I didn't feel like I'd learnt enough to take the exams in August." Parvati admitted, "And I was still grieving-" Her voice faltered, but she took a breath and continued, despite the tears that glistened in her eyes, "It's taking a while for me to come to terms with what happened to Lavender." She finished quietly, looking down at her plate.

Hermione looked directly at Parvati, she didn't smile – she couldn't, trying to ignore the memory scratching at her mind. But she placed a reassuring hand onto Parvati's and gave a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Parvati looked up at Hermione, staring her right in the eye. No smiles were exchanged, but there was a deep understanding: they had both seen people they loved brutally murdered that night, and they had both witnessed what had happened to Lavender, and in that moment the pair seemed to cross some invisible line that had always separated them, it seemed there friendship would be more solid this year.

Before the silence could become awkward, Ginny spoke up: "What about you Nev?" she asked.

Neville shrugged, "I was too busy flouting the authority of the Carrows," he admitted, "Plus I was one of the first to go into hiding. So I didn't really learn much, and I'm considering studying further to be an Auror," he admitted, his cheeks going slightly pink, slightly embarrassed at having such high aims. "So I really need to up my grades this year."

"Go for it." Hermione said supportingly, "I saw you fight in June, you have skill. You've always had it; I think you just needed to find your confidence. And from what I heard, you certainly found it last year." She told him, truthfully, causing him to turn even pinker at such praise.

"Where's Seamus, this year?" Ginny asked, "How come he didn't return?"

"He did pretty well last year," Neville said, "So he took his exams in August, then he's going to apply for a Ministry internship, hoping to start in October."

"Any idea what department?" Hermione asked, with interest.

Neville shrugged, "No idea, not even sure he knows where he wants to end up to be honest."

The group continued through dinner with genial, trivial chitchat, Hermione trying to tune out the frequent glances, and sometimes long staring, from multiple occupants of the room. By the time desert had been served, and mostly devoured, Hermione was becoming anxious to get to her new tower: the staring had become more frequent now that people had finished their meals, and she was quite ready for some personal space.

After what seemed like an eternity, the tables were cleared of the leftovers, Professor McGonagall finally rose, and a sleepy silence fell across the room.

"Now that we are all comfortably fed, your beds await you. Classes will begin tomorrow, and for anyone wishing to try out for their house Quidditch team, tryouts will be held next week: your team captain will put the time and date up on your house notice board." She informed them.

"Prefects, please escort the first years to their house dormitories, you may then proceed to your new prefect quarters on the fifth floor. Deputy Heads, you may retire to the quarters immediately, and can the Head Boy and Girl come and see me, and I will escort you to your tower." McGonagall instucted.

When McGonagall stopped talking, Hermione turned to Ginny, "I'll see you at breakfast. Wish me luck." She added.

Ginny laughed, "You'll be fine. And I want a tour, tomorrow." She demanded.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and left the table to walk over to McGonagall, ignoring all the stares as she passed the rest of the students heading in the opposite direction.

"Hermione," McGonagall said, with a genuine smile of affection, "It's very good to have you back with us. I can't tell you how happy I am that you decided to return."

Hermione smiled, "Thank you Min- erm, Professor." Hermione corrected herself; McGonagall gave another small smile, as the pair lapsed into silence as they waited for Draco to grace them with his presence.

Eventually, five minutes later, he sauntered over.

"About time," Hermione muttered, standing with her arms crossed.

"Relax, Granger. I'm here aren't I?" He then smirked, "Couldn't wait to get me all to yourself?"

Hermione gave him her signature glare, clearly conveying her lack of amusement, before turning to the Headmistress.

"Right, well, if you will both follow me, I will lead you to your tower." She said briskly, leading them through the chamber off the side of the hall in order to miss the last of the straggling students.

"We've converted the guest tower for your use," McGonagall informed them as she led them up the marble staircase. "It's one of the West Towers, so your rooms will overlook the Forest."

Hermione smiled, she loved having West facing windows: After a bad day, she loved nothing better than curling up in a window, with a book, to watch the sun set – and she had a feeling that this year would involve a few bad days.

Fifteen minutes, and countless staircases later, McGonagall came to a halt outside a large portrait depicting Hogwarts castle at night, with stars lighting up the clear sky, and a crescent moon just visible in the corner of the canvas. As with all other paintings in the castle, it's contents were living, and as Hermione watched an owl flew out of Owlery, circled a tower, and soared off over the Forest. A breeze sent the leaves of the Whomping Willow rustling, and the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest swayed gently.

"Magbob" Professor McGonagall declared at the painting, which swung inwards, revealing the large, arched, doorway into the tower – this was obviously their password for the term.

Hermione smiled and the choice of word, and glanced at Draco, wondering if he knew the term's origin. Judging by the slight crease of his temple, followed by a small shake of his head, he thought McGonagall was simply making words up.

Hermione and Draco followed their Headmistress silently into a large, round and open-plan space. To their left, up a couple of steps onto a raised platform was their study area, which consisted of a large wooden table with six large comfortable chairs gathered around it. Floor to ceiling bookcases lined the walls that surrounded the area, containing what Hermione would estimate as being at leas two hundred books. She smiled, excitement in her eyes, she couldn't wait to start exploring their depths, determined to read every single volume before the year was out.

To their right was their sitting area: A collection of a couple of sofas, and three chairs were gathered around a low wooden coffee table, in front of a large fire. The comfort was similar to that of the Gryffindor common room, though the furniture was in better condition. To the back of the room was a small kitchenette, with a sink and a stovetop, on which was sat a large copper kettle. Hermione would have to search the cupboards to see what kitchen accessories they were provided with. A long breakfast bar separated the kitchen area from the rest of the space, complete with four bar stools, neatly tucked under.

The décor was neither Gryffindor, nor Slytherin inspired – and Hermione silently thanked the Gods that they hadn't tried to do a mixture of the two: she would have gone insane living with 'Christmas colours' for a full ten months. Instead the décor was more fitting of a woodland cabin, warm browns and similar earthy hues, and sheepskin rugs, and soft cushions on the leather upholstery.

McGonagall turned to face the two students. "I'm sure you will find everything to your liking. As you can see the ground floor is self-explanatory. The staircase to the left, behind the study, leads to your room, Draco. And the opposite staircase, behind the sitting area, leads to yours, Hermione. Your bathroom is off your bedroom, you'll be able to find your way around easy enough, I'm sure."

"Thank you," Hermione said, as Draco nodded in silence.

"One last thing, please don't forget the rota for corridor duty. When you've finished it, call for one of the houseleves – Hickory usually does the notices, so call for him. And He'll make sure they're up on the prefect board before dawn."

Hermione and Draco nodded.

McGonagall went to leave, then turned back at the doorway. "I hope I'm not making a mistake in my estimation of your two's maturity. I know you haven't been particularly candid to one another in the past, but I'm hoping civility is not too much to ask."

Hermione laughed, "We'll be fine, don't worry. We are capable of being civil to one another, we've done it before." She assured the Headmistress.

McGonagall nodded, and finally departed. Hermione looked at Draco, who was looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"What?" Hermione frowned, "Are you telling me you can't be civil? I know you can, do you not remember our extremely civil encounter after the battle? Down in the kitchens. We were there for a while, and no wands were drawn, nor voices raised." She reminded him.

"I remember." He spoke for the first time since entering, "But I'm surprised you do." He said with a smirk.

Hermione frowned in confusion, her expression inviting him to explain.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Granger, I don't think how much of a mess you looked that morning." He said, with a shake of his head.

"Thank you," she said dryly, giving him the less-than-impressed expression once again.

Draco frowned, "I mean it Granger. You were battered and bruised, covered in burns, scratches, and cuts. Under your eyes were black: the circles were so dark, I wasn't sure if it was exhaustion or a pair of black eyes. You were thin as well; your body looked like it was about to give in from exhaustion at any moment. You were delirious with the tiredness, I'm sure. I'm telling you, Granger, you were one hell of a mess."

Hermione shrugged, "It had been a long day. And I still wasn't 100% recovered from-" she stopped, feeling a little awkward she was about to mention the incident at Malfoy Manor, but thought better of it.

Before the silence was left to continue too long, resulting in an awkward atmosphere, Hermione spoke up.

"We may as well get these rotas sorted, shouldn't take too long. And I like to get them done before I get distracted with my room." She said, briskly, walking up to the large table in the study area.

She pulled out her blue sequin bag from her robe pocket and put it on the table with a loud thump, which earned her another raised eyebrow. She had transferred her school bag into it on the train journey, not wanting to have the cumbersome bag during dinner, and luckily finding the enchanted bag in one of the many pockets of her school bag.

"What the hell have you got in that, Granger?" Draco asked, coming up to the table.

"My school bag." She said simply, then turned to explain with a smirk, "Undetectable extension charm, this thing was a treasure last year: it had everything we could possible need, from a tent to a portrait."

Draco's eyebrows seemed to go even higher, "A portrait? Why…just why?"

Hermione smirked, "Sorry, classified." She said, taking a seat.

Draco shook he head, "Whatever, lets just get on with this so I can take a shower and get some rest."

Hermione delved into her sequin bag to retrieve her school bag, then delved into her school bag to retrieve parchment and quills and a list of the school prefects.

An hour later, the rota was finished to a satisfactory standard, the pair had hardly talked during the process, except for the odd comment about the suitability of the pairings.

By the time they got to the end, Draco was starting to get a little short of temper, he was extremely tired, and just wanted to sleep.

"If they don't like it, they can just suck it. It's late, just call the damn elf and get these away." He said in a harsh tone.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but refrained from antagonising him – she knew she wasn't the easiest person to get along with when she was tired and cranky, so she let this one slide. After duplicating the parchment in front of her, she called for Hickory, who appeared a moment later with a loud crack.

"The new Head Girl called?" He said in it's high-pitched tone.

"Yes, could you take these and put them up in the Prefect Dorms, please." She said, handing over the two pieces of parchment.

"Certainly miss. Anything else?" The elf asked.

"Actually -" Draco started, but Hermione spoke over him.

"No. Thank you. That will be all." She said, definitively.

The elf bowed, and disappeared, while Draco glared at Hermione.

"I'm hungry, I was just going to ask for a sandwich." He said shortly.

"You've just eaten a feast. And we have a kitchen. Explore." She said, echoing his shortness before turning to her staircase and ascending up to her room. She heard Draco leave his seat and mutter all the way to his staircase.

At the top of the stairs, Hermione went through a large wooded door, and stopped dead. She had walked right into her sitting room that formed part of her suite at home. Or rather, an excellent replica of it, as she looked closer she noticed the differences: the proportions were a little smaller, and the colour scheme most definitely Gryffindor. The room even had the French doors leading out to a balcony that, as McGonagall had said, overlooked the Forbidden Forest.

Hermione smiled, and treaded the familiar path through the wooden double doors (not as wide as the ones at home) to her bedroom. Here again, were some differences: at first glance the layout was the same, she had her four-poster bed, her dressing table and a chaise-long. And there were her bedside tables and a book table, and French doors leading out to the balcony again. But the Biggest difference was the colour scheme, at which she was secretly glad – while her 'emerald city' theme was acceptable at home, here it would be seen as Slytherin décor, and the ultimate treachery to Gryffindor. Instead the room was decorated in the typical reds and gold. As she investigated further, she saw there was an additional door on the left hand wall, as well as the two doors on the back wall, on either side of the bed.

Hermione walked to the right hand door first and found it to be – as at home – her closet (again, considerably smaller in size here, which wasn't a bad thing, as Hermione had brought with her a limited wardrobe.)

The door on the left-hand side of the back wall, which would have been Hermione's en-suite at home, was a small room, housing a toilet and a tiny sink basin. No shower unit, nor bathtub.

Hermione turned to the door next to her, on the left had wall, the cogs slowly turning in her mind, and the conclusions she were drawing weren't particularly happy ones.

She turned the handle and entered into a luxurious room, along the back wall, to her right, was a long vanity unity, complete with two large sinks. On the opposite wall to the sinks was a large double shower, and in the centre of the room was a roll top bath. On either side of the shower and bath, were two luxurious lounges, a safe distance away to prevent accidental splashing from the tub or shower.

Hermione looked directly across at the wall opposite her, and saw what confirmed her earlier suspicions, especially when coupled with the 'his-and-her' sinks.

Directly opposite her own, was another door, which Hermione would bet her entire fortune, led into Draco Malfoy's room. Hermione sighed, and turned back into her room, and proceeded to unpack her belongings.

As she was sending the last of her clothes to the closet, with a wave of her wand, she heard a call from the bathroom.

"Jesus, Granger! How much crap do you have in the shower already?!" Draco called.

Hermione rolled her eyes, sighed, and went into the bathroom, where she immediately laughed at the sight of Draco carrying an armful of bottles.

"Apparently, the same amount of crap you're about to put in there." She said, still laughing.

Draco scowled and started sending various bottles to various places around the bathroom, muttering as he did so: "They're not all going in the shower."

Hermione rolled her eyes; "I have shampoo, conditioner, a face wash, a body scrub, and some hair treatment as I have neglected my curls this year, according to my mother. It's a pretty standard amount for any woman to have in her shower." She told him before turning back to her room.

"Whatever. Just don't use my razor!" Draco called after her.

"Why on earth would I do that?" Hermione shouted back, with disgust.

"I don't know, apparently girls do that." Draco said, and Hermione could tell he was no longer in the bathroom, but had followed her, uninvited, into her room.

"Well, I don't." she snapped, then added sarcastically, "And you may enter my room, by the way."

Draco smirked, "Thank you. Not that I was going to ask permission anyway." He took in his surroundings. "It's small." He stated.

Hermione shrugged, "I only sleep in here, it doesn't need to be large."

"But your room is your sanctuary," he countered. "I'm surprised you haven't got bookcases lining the walls."

Hermione silently pointed to the doors behind her, "In my sitting room."

"You have a sitting room?" Draco asked, wondering over to the doors. "Hmmm."

"I take it you just have the one room?" Hermione asked, "And is yours set out like it is at home?"

Draco nodded, "With the exception of the en-suite."

Hermione nodded, and remained silent, waiting for Draco to leave her rooms. Apparently he was taking no such hint, she sighed.

"Malfoy, I'm tired, get out of my room, I want to sleep. We'll figure out bathroom arrangements tomorrow, but for now, you can shower tonight, and I will shower in the morning. Now get!" She said.

Draco frowned, "I don't appreciate being ordered around like a dog." He said.

"The don't come into my room. My room, my rules." She said.

Draco smirked, "Kinky."

"I swear to the Gods." Hermione snapped, pulling out her wand. Draco held up his hands and walked back the way he had come, still with that annoying smirk.

"Easy Granger, remember what you told McGonagall." He warned.

Hermione slammed the door behind him, and locked it, before kicking off her shoes and changing into her standard sleeping attire: a pair of long, cotton pants, and one of Harry's old t-shirts that he never wore anymore. She sent her clothes into the closet to hang themselves on hangers, then climbed gratefully into the large bed.

That night, all the thoughts and memories she had refused to acknowledge throughout the evening came to the forefront of her mind, and for the first time in weeks she woke in a cold sweat, after only a few hours of sleep, thanks to one of the many recurring nightmares she had started having since the end of the war.

Taking her wand from under her pillow, where she had taken to keeping it since last summer, she illuminated the lamp on her bedside table and looked at the clock. 2am.

Hermione sighed, there was no way she was going back to sleep any time soon, not when she had the haunting pictures of Lavender, Remus and Dora plastered on her eyelids. Instead, she dragged herself out of bed, grabbed her dressing gown, and quietly descended down into the small kitchenette, to brew some camomile tea, hoping to sooth her nerves, and help her get back to sleep, quietly thankful that she hadn't at least screamed out in this particular nightmare.

Hermione spent the next couple of hours curled up on one of the couches, staring at the dying embers of the fire. Finally, she felt her eyes become heavy, so she dragged herself back up to her bed, where she slept fitfully until her alarm went off at 7.

An hour later, showered and dressed, Hermione descended once again into the Kitchen, where Draco was already sipping a mug of coffee, his school bag sat on the breakfast bar, clearly he had found their supplies.

"You look like hell, Granger." He commented as she stepped off the stairs.

Hermione scowled, not in the mood for his special form of pleasantries, which appeared to have made a comeback this morning. Instead of retaliating, she simply asked:

"Do I smell fresh coffee?"

Draco smirked, and wordlessly turned to pour her a mug, handing it over to her in continued silence.

"Thanks." Hermione said gratefully, with a tiny hint of a smile trying to replace the scowl.

"You are not a morning person then?" Draco commented, as she took a tentative sip from her mug.

"Usually, I am. But I didn't sleep much last night. Being back here, it brought back-" Hermione stopped suddenly as she realised who it was she was speaking to why did she keep doing this? Letting things slip to people.

"Never mind," she said hastily, taking another drink.

Draco took note of the abrupt change and refrained from pushing for her to continue, instead he changed the subject:

"We should go down to breakfast soon, timetables will be being handed out, plus while we have decent tea and coffee supplies in here, the food is pretty limited to snacks and biscuits. And no doubt there will be at least one prefect with a complaint about the rota we did last night." Draco grumbled.

Hermione rolled her eyes and scowled again, in no mood for petty and trivial teenage dramas today,

"Well, they'll just have to suck it, won't they." She said, rather harshly, repeating his words from the night before.

Draco laughed a genuine laugh, and Hermione glanced up slightly surprised. She had never heard, nor seen him laugh in such a way, and the effect was quite surprising. There was a sparkle to his eyes which she had never seen before, transforming them from hard steel grey she had become accustomed to, turning them into pools of quicksilver that hinted at a hidden depth she had never imagined. And the smile brightened his face, gone was the hard mask of nonchalance, replaced by a degree of genuine happiness. The effect only lasted a moment, but nonetheless, Hermione had noticed it, and noticed it to be a rather pleasant affect as well.

Hermione mentally shook herself. Merlin, she must be delirious with tiredness if her mind was finding Malfoy attractive - that was the last thing she needed going on in her thoughts right now.

"What is so funny?" she asked.

Draco shook his head and smirked, the mask slipping back into place,

"I just didn't expect that comment, I thought you had more patience. I enjoy this side of your personality," He commented suddenly, "That is an Hermione Granger I could learn to get along with." He told her, before draining his mug, setting it down and picking up his bag.

As he headed to the portrait hole, he called over his shoulder, "Don't be too long, the school will start to worry that I murdered the Gryffindor Princess in her sleep. And my public image can't take that right now." He mocked, still with laughter in his voice.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Please, I'd be offended if even one student thought you could be a match for me." She called after him, echoing his tone, and once again causing him to laugh.

Ten minutes later, Hermione followed Draco down to the Great Hall. Upon entering, she immediately sought out the tell-tale flaming read hair of Ginny, and went to sit next to her, opposite Neville and Dean.

"About time," Ginny commented as Hermione took her seat, "We were beginning to think Malfoy had hexed you in your sleep or something." She joked.

Hermione scowled, not impressed with Ginny's humour, but didn't make a comment as Professor Fidelis chose that moment to distribute their timetables. Hermione glanced hers over quickly: not a bad Monday morning, Arithmancy, followed by Defence Against the Dark Arts. She frowned when she read her first class of the afternoon.

"Erm, there seems to be some mistake." She called after the new Professor, who turned back towards her.

"I dropped muggle studies after third year, I'm not enrolled in the NEWT programme." She told him.

Fidelis smiled, "New policy," he explained, "Muggle studies is now mandatory for all years. You can still take it as an option, but for those students who don't take the subject at OWL or NEWT level, they have to sit a short-course that runs for the duration of a term: You'll only have it up until Christmas." He informed them.

Hermione sighed and nodded in acceptance, "Thanks," she said, turning back to her breakfast.

Over at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy's good mood was evaporating quickly. He had taken a seat next to Blaise, who was as cheerful as ever – a little too cheerful in Draco's opinion, considering his first words to his friend.

"I'd brace yourself if I were you," Blaise warned, with a malicious glint in his eye.

"Why?" Draco asked warily, "What's going on?"

"Pansy seems to be on the warpath. She seems a little upset about something, and she's looking for you." He told him.

Draco scowled, "I haven't done anything. I haven't seen her at all over the summer, haven't even wrote to her. In fact, I pretty much ignored her." Draco ranted, while Blaise laughed.

"Well, there would be your problem, mate. Pansy doesn't like being ignored, I think she's under the impression you two are still an item." He explained.

Draco rounded on Blaise, "Still?! What do you mean 'still'? We were never an item." Draco assured his friend in a voice that carried to the people around him.

Blaise raised his eyebrows, but didn't say a word.

"We weren't." Draco defended, "She was a physical distraction, it's not my fault she got too attached."

Blaise shook his head and laughed while Draco started loading bacon and eggs onto his plate. The food was starting to lift his spirits once again, when Pansy sat herself in the seat next to him, causing his mood to plummet even further.

"Drakey," She said, in that irritating whine of a voice which immediately set Draco's teeth on edge. Draco took a deep, cleansing breath, closing his eyes for a moment, and trying to retain his calm.

"Where have you been all summer? Didn't you get my letters? I read about your parent's trials." She said, putting her arm through his.

Draco turned to her with a scowl, "I'm trying to eat. Get the hell off me." He snapped.

Pansy sat up a little straighter, slightly taken aback by Draco's abrupt tone.

She narrowed her eyes, "What's wrong with you?" she asked, then cocked her head sympathetically, "Is it because you're sharing that tower with the mudblood?"

Draco took another deep breath, but this time he actually growled a little on his exhale.

"No, you are my problem. I'm trying to eat a meal in peace, and you're ruining it. I was a little busy this summer to pander to your whims, I didn't read your letters – to be honest I don't even know why you were writing to me. Let's face it, we were never really friends, and I told you that our little fling last year was over mid-way through our last term. So why are you still hovering around me?" He ranted.

As Pansy was opening her mouth to speak, looking rather offended, Draco held up his hand to stop her. "Don't bother. Don't want to hear it. I just want you to leave me alone. Oh, and in future, don't use that term in front of me again. She has a name, its Granger, use it." He said firmly, turning back to his plate.

He heard Pansy get up and leave in a huff, just as Slughorn came down the table, and handed him his timetable. All other tables had been handed their timetables ten minutes ago, but Slughorn seemed to be in one of his lazy moods today. Draco glanced at his classes for today, and rolled his eyes.

"This can't be my timetable, I don't do muggle studies." He called impatiently after the Professor, was anything else going to go wrong today to mess up his mood even more?

Slughorn looked back, "You do now, it's mandatory: if you don't select it as an OWL or NEWT you have to do a basic course in it. It's only for one term." He explained, and then continued to hand out the remaining timetables, not intending to listen to Draco's ill humour.

Draco turned back to his plate scowling once again. "This morning is taking a nose-dive fast, and it's starting to piss me off." He growled, while Blaise chuckled, pushing his breakfast away form him, having finished already, and took up his timetable to examine.

"And to think, I was actually happy when I woke up." Draco muttered as he lifted his fork to finally make a proper start on his breakfast, having only managed to take two bites before Pansy had interrupted him. Before the fork could reach his mouth however, the food disappeared: apparently breakfast was over.

"Fuck sake!" Draco spat, throwing his fork onto the now empty plate. "I swear to the Gods, if my day doesn't improve someone is going to die!"

Draco picked up his timetable and bag and stomped out the Hall, muttering something about now having to 'find a stupid effing book for stupid effing muggle studies.' He could hear Blaise's laughter as he walked away from the table, which did nothing to help his bad mood whatsoever.

Hermione quickly rushed back to the Head's Tower when breakfast was over, wanting pick up the books she would need for the rest of the day in the spare fifteen minutes before the first class, at the same time dropping off the surplus texts she didn't need.

She was just coming back down her stair case when she heard the portrait slam, and Draco stomped over to the study area and began to peruse the shelves, mumbling darkly.

Hermione quirked her eyebrow, "You right, there?" she asked.

Draco turned and scowled. "Mandatory Muggle Studies." He said through gritted teeth, before turning back to the shelves.

"Ah," Hermione said, "Yeah, I have that after lunch. It's only for one term though, and it's a single period, once a week. It shouldn't be that bad." She said. She wasn't sure why she was trying to make Malfoy feel better; it just seemed like the right thing to do. Though this action surprised her: usually she would just shrug and walk away.

But she knew Malfoy could have a foul temper, and that didn't fare well for the people around him – not so much her, she was a good duellist, especially after last year, she knew she could most certainly handle him in a temper. But the younger students wouldn't stand a chance, if they crossed him in this foul mood.

"I don't care." Draco countered, "If I wanted to know about muggles, I would have taken the effing subject of my own free will. Why the hell would I want to learn in depth about people I rarely come in contact with? I need all I need to know, to handle them when business calls for it." Draco ranted; finally finding the book he was searching for, he pulled it roughly from the shelf and crammed it hastily into his bag.

Hermione frowned at his rant, loosing her patience quickly – a bad nights sleep did bad things for her temper, and muggle-prejudices were an extreme sore-point for her, and tended to result in hasty anger.

"It probably has something to do with educating the more bigoted minds in the school, to avoid the possibility of our society once again falling under the warped regime we managed to escape only a few months ago." She said waspishly, as Draco turned around to face her, his face a blank mask yet again.

"But what am I telling you this for?" Hermione continued, her voice becoming icier, and completely letting go.

"You and your family were at the fore front of that regime, full believers that wizards are the superior race, and people like my family and I are the scum of the earth. Of course you wouldn't appreciate the want for change, when you are such a strong believer in the past ways." She snapped.

Hermione had spoken in the heat of the moment, she was still touchy when it came to the subject of discrimination against muggles and muggleborns, and the scar on her arm seemed to throb as her anger pulsated, reminding her that it was a member of _his_ family that had carved the word into her skin, which in turn made her even angrier at him.

Hermione knew her words were harsh, perhaps a little too harsh, and she regretted them as soon as she had uttered them. She knew her anger was misdirected, but even so, she still didn't expect Draco to react as extremely as he did.

Draco's calm mask slipped instantly away, and his features were overcome with obvious rage, bitterness and Hermione also thought she saw a hint of pain and guilt in his eyes. The instant regret she had felt after she had spoken was now multiplied a hundred times at seeing how her words had actually affected him.

"Shut the fuck up, Granger, I am not in the mood." He snarled, and Hermione actually took a step back in shock.

"You may be a bloody know it all at school, the top of every damned class, but you do not know all there is to know. And you certainly don't know shit about me or my family." He ranted in a low voice seething with restrained rage.

Hermione didn't know what to say, she was completely thrown by such an emotional response, and she had never seen Malfoy lose his cool like this before.

Without a seconds pause, before Hermione could recover, Draco turned and headed out of the portrait hole. Hermione chewed her lip, the anger that had briefly flared now subsided and was replaced by shame and guilt at what her actions had caused. She mentally kicked herself:

"Was there really any need to be such a bitch, after what you witnessed in him yourself?" she spoke aloud to herself, her mind taking her back to how the Malfoys had looked the one time she had been inside their home.

Hermione sighed, there was nothing she could do for the moment, and so she headed to her first class, resolving to apologise the first chance she got. When Hermione entered the Arithmancy classroom, she saw she was one of the first to arrive: only three other students were there. A pair of Ravenclaws was sat at the very front, and the other occupant of the classroom was seated at a table in the centre, his head bent over the open textbook on the table, platinum hair shining in the sun that was streaming through the window.

Hermione took a resigning breath, and steeled her nerves. _No time like the present_ she thought to herself. Without wasting another moment, she walked briskly over to Draco's table, sat down uninvited and took the relevant books from her bag.

"Out of all the tables in the room, you chose to take one already occupied?" Draco questioned without looking up. "And what could possibly make you think sitting next to me would be a good idea?" He added, his tone icy.

Hermione took another deep breath, "I'm sorry." She said, "For what I said in the tower. It was unfair, and nasty and I'm sorry. I still find the whole muggle-prejudice thing a bit of a touchy subject, and I didn't sleep much last night, so my temper is a lot shorter than usual – that's not an excuse for my behaviour, I know, but it's all I've got. I know I overreacted, and I didn't mean what I said, I was venting, I'm sorry." She told him.

Draco still didn't look up from his book, nor did he speak, but Hermione did see him nod in acknowledgement of her apology. Hermione waited for him to say something, anything, as a few more students trickled in, but when it became apparent that he wasn't going to make any form of noise anytime soon, Hermione sighed again.

"I will move to another table, if you prefer." She said, resigned, reaching for her textbook, intending to return it to her bag.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Stay where you are," he mumbled finally, as Professor Vector entered the room. "The class is about to start anyway, and no doubt you're insufferable need to know everything will come in useful at some point during the class." He said, though still without actually looking at her.

Hermione allowed herself a little smirk of triumph, and settled back into her chair as the professor began her standard introduction.

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_**A/N: Please let me know what you thought. And if there are any glaring mistakes, please tell me.**_

_**We are finally getting into the Dramione and I am looking forward to writing the next few chapters, to bridge the gab between now and Christmas. There's going to be lots of emotions, there's going to be laughter, anger, and a few vulnerable moments. There's going to be a huge cliché, but I just couldn't resist it lol. **_

_**I'm already a third of the way through chapter 11, with clear ideas of where it's going, so hopefully I won't be making you wait too long for the next update.**_

_**Thanks again for sticking with me, you guys really do rock, and it's making this story even more fun for me to write :)**_

_**xBx**_


	11. Chapter 11: Defence Disaster

**_A/N: Just a quick thank you to all my wonderful reviewers! The positive feedback, and the support is fantastic! Thank you so much, it's making writing this even more fun!_  
**

**_A little bit of a fun chapter, not much really happens - more was going to happen, but the DADA class just got a little out of control. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, I hope you guys find it as funny as I did._**

**_xBx_**

* * *

**~ Chapter 11: Defence Disaster ~**

Hermione and Draco didn't speak another word throughout the entire Arithmancy class. Draco was astounded that, after his outburst, Hermione would have the nerve to actually sit next to him. But then he reminded himself that this woman was at the front of the war on Voldemort, he had witnessed himself just how much she could actually go through and come out alive – compared to Voldemort and his Aunt Bellatrix, he must seem like nothing more than a temperamental puppy to her – no, a dog, a vicious dog, he decided. No one should think of Draco Malfoy as a puppy. He shuddered at the thought.

_But, this is Granger;_ he thought to himself, _if anyone is going to have the audacity to compare me to an effing puppy, it's her._ He grumbled, internally.

Despite his slight discomfort at sharing a table with her, he let her stay. She had admitted she was in the wrong – something Draco didn't think she was even capable of; he was quite convinced that this was a first for the stubborn Gryffindor Princess. Furthermore, she had apologised, to a Slytherin no less, and Draco had to admit, that even his outburst probably deserved to be apologised for, though he wasn't quite calm enough to attempt it. At the end of the day, the pair was sharing a tower, they had to get along otherwise life would turn pretty sour, pretty fast.

As they both had their next class together, they ended up walking to Defence Against the Dark Arts side by side, despite no conversation being attempted by either of them.

When they reached the classroom half the students were already there: a healthy mix of returning and new seventh years. Draco stood to the side, allowing Hermione to enter first – Hermione felt a renewed twinge of guilt at her verbal assault: even after the venom that poured from her mouth, he was still being polite, though he still had a scowl on his face.

Hermione made her way to a table near the back, where Ginny was already sitting.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked, as Hermione took her seat, taking in the vibes between her friend and the Slytherin Prince.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, half-heartedly, taking out her book and wand.

Ginny nodded her head towards the front of the class, where Draco had just taken a seat next to Blaise, a couple of rows from the front. "Looks like something happened already." She said.

Hermione sighed; Ginny was far too in tune with the people around her, it was almost like a superpower.

"Don't go there." She said, with a shake of her head.

Ginny chuckled, "Jeez, that bad and only day one? What did he do?" she asked, automatically assuming that whatever it was had been Draco's fault – after all, that was usually the case.

Hermione slumped forward and rested her chin on her hand, turning to look at Ginny, with a rather pathetic look on her face.

"He didn't do anything," Hermione admitted, "It was my fault. I just went off on one, for no reason."

Ginny nodded, and Hermione could see she was struggling to keep from laughing. But the struggle was in vain, and Ginny finally allowed herself a laugh with a shake of the head, and Hermione even joined in, though still retaining that pathetic look.

"This year's going to be a disaster, isn't it?" Hermione asked, but was spared an answer as Professor Fidelis entered the room.

"Alright," The Professor called, bringing the students to a quiet attention, their faces following him as he made his way to the front of the class.

"As far as I understand it, Defence has been pretty much the worst structured subject in the history of teaching." He said, getting right to the point, his comment causing a few laughs of agreement.

"And I believe we have a mixture of fresh seventh years, and returning seventh years in this class." He said, looking around the class who nodded their assent. "Which is going to really highlight the severely poor structure you've been forced to endure. Obviously, my aim is to get you all up to speed so you can confidently sit your NEWT exam in June. Now, the returning seventh years: those of you who sat your sixth year with Professor Snape are at a certain advantage, as you actually had a very competent teacher-"

Fidelis was interrupted by a scoff, which came from Zacharias Smith. Hermione hadn't noticed him when she had first arrived, and noticing him now set her teeth on edge, and she couldn't help herself from sticking up for their late Headmaster.

"Zip it Smith. You may not have liked him, but Severus was a bloody good teacher, you can not deny that." She snapped, and everyone turned to look at her: she received a few raised eyebrows at this remark.

It was common knowledge that Hermione, Harry and Ron had been on some sort of mission the past year, and a few knew they were pretty much a part of the Order of the Phoenix (though they had never been formally inducted) and were therefore on socially equal terms with certain members of the staff at Hogwarts.

And of course, after the final battle, Harry (with the help of Hermione, Ron, and the remaining Order members) had made sure that Severus was recognised as being the hero that he was. But still, referring to Professor Snape on a first name basis was a lot for them take in.

Zacharias looked at her with cold eyes, and raised eyebrows at the first name use. "He was evil, and a bully." He stated

"He wasn't evil, he was far from it actually. As many people are already aware, he was a hero. So show a little respect to his memory." She countered without a thought, her voice dripping with acid: Smith really got her back up, and his griping coupled with her lack of sleep and a bad start to the day, was doing nothing for her temper right now.

"And you know this how?" Zacharias asked sceptically.

"Is it really any of your business?" She asked coolly, but unable to restrain herself, she continued:

"But there was a side to him that no one saw while he was alive, except for one person – actually two: one of them died a long time ago, the other was Dumbledore. You may have kept yourself safe away in hiding during the war, but some of us were in the thick of it, and you learn a lot in certain situations. So don't make ignorant assumptions about situations you haven't got a clue about." Hermione snapped.

She was completely unaware that she had sparked the interest of several other students in the class: Draco, in particular, wondered what she knew about their late Professor, and he resolved to question her about it soon. Ginny was also giving Hermione an interested look, and like Draco she was also determined to get some answers later that evening.

Professor Fidelis chose this time to finally interrupt them, sensing this argument could escalate quickly:

"Can we move on?" He asked, without waiting for an answer, warily assessing the two bickering students and resolving to keep them as separate as possible throughout the year: He was well aware of Miss Granger's talents, and from an initial judgement he knew Smith might never recover from an altercation with the fiery brunette.

"As I was saying: for those of you who sat your sixth year _last_ year, well, there was no defence taught, just Dark Arts, so you won't have the advantages that the rest of class have. However, a lot of what I want to teach you is going to be theoretical this year: we are going to look _at_ the dark arts, as well as defence _against them,_ in an attempt to understand them – once we understand what we are trying to defend against, the easier we can accomplish the defence." He informed them, adding: "Defence is not a solid concept, we have to adapt our defence strategies in accordance with the arts we are fighting."

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other, the last time they had had a focus on theory, they'd had to resort to teaching themselves. Apparently they weren't the only ones to show this scepticism, and it wasn't missed.

The professor smiled knowingly, "I realise the last time you had a theory based defence class, you were suffering under the rule of Dolores Umbridge. Believe me, I have no intention of suppressing you like she did. Incidentally, I'm surprised how many of her students passed their OWLs – a handful with amazing grades." He said as an afterthought, with genuine surprise. "And if my calculations are correct, that OWL year would be the returning seventh years of the class, am I right? What was your secret?"

Hermione couldn't help but grin at Ginny, who sniggered, which caused Hermione to giggle likewise. This set off a few other knowing sniggers around the room, namely from Neville, Luna, Dean and Parvati, who were also in the class.

Their professor frowned, "I'm missing something here, aren't I?" He asked warily, correctly interpreting the noise.

Hermione took it upon herself to answer, not wanting too much to be said, and certainly not wanting Smith to start talking, which he looked very close to doing.

"A few of us may have took it upon ourselves to self-learn. The defensive magic which Umbridge wasn't teaching us, Ha- erm, someone else did." Hermione said evasively, "A study group if you will." She suggested innocently, at which Ginny snorted.

The teacher rose his eyebrows, "And Umbridge was okay with this?" he asked disbelieving, having encountered the woman several times himself he was familiar with her countenance.

"Apparently, she didn't know what was really going on." Offered Draco, speaking for the first time, when no one else seemed to want to answer the question.

"Oh she did," Ginny contradicted, adding with a gloat: "She just couldn't catch us at it and didn't want to admit the she was easily outsmarted by a group of teenagers."

Hermione rolled her eyes; this was going far more in depth that she would have liked. And seeing that further explanation was now needed, as the professor was looking intrigued and slightly disbelieving that a ministry official couldn't catch out a bunch of teenagers, she informed him quickly:

"Every week the time and day of the meeting would change, so even if someone was watching us, they wouldn't figure out a pattern. There were a fair few of us in the group, so to avoid unnecessary discussion, we communicated the time and date through some fake galleons, which I enchanted with a protean charm." Hermione explained to Fidelis whose expression changed from sceptical to impressed.

"That is very impressive magic, especially for OWL level. I know a lot of NEWT students have difficulty with that particular charm. Though it sounds like a lot of effort for a simple study group." He said warily: He couldn't deny that this group intrigued him and Fidelis was therefore forthcoming in allowing the students to continue their discussion – the best way to learn the group's dynamic was through listening to them and learning their history.

Hermione shrugged, but Neville spoke up, "It started out as a study group, but the DA became more than that quick enough." He explained with pride.

"DA?" Fidelis asked, clearly getting more intrigued by the minute: this was his first class of the year, and he was wondering if all the students were as apt as this set appeared to be – apt or trouble-makers he wasn't quite sure, but he was willing to be optimistic as he had the famous Hermione Granger in the room.

He obviously recognised Hermione Granger, and the redhead next to her he knew to be Ginny Weasley. He had heard about the antics of Ginny along with Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood – whom he also knew was in this class as well.

"Our name: we were Dumbledore's Army." Luna spoke up from next to Neville, slowly but surely the remaining members were having their say in this unexpected conversation.

"We still are." Added Ginny, her tone echoing the pride that Neville had shown.

"So who here is a member?" Professor Fidelis asked, looking around. Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna all raised their hands, as did Dean and Parvati, but when Zacharias Smith started to raise his arm, Hermione lost her patience for the second time in that class.

"Don't even think about it Smith. You may have come along for the free lessons, but don't get carried away." She warned.

"What are you talking about? It lasted a year, I was there for it all." He countered, sounded sulky.

"Are you fricking kidding me?" Ginny said, now also frustrated with Smith, "The DA continued, you prick, to the point where it pretty much became a stepping stone up to the Order of the Phoenix: we had links with the Order from day one. And when five DA members left Hogwarts they went right into the order." She informed their professor - apparently Hermione wasn't the only one who said too much in anger.

The professor raised his eyebrows at the outburst, but didn't say anything: he was learning a lot here that would help him understand this class a lot better, he felt.

"Five?" Hermione questioned Ginny quietly, momentarily forgetting her frustration.

"Yeah: You, Harry, Ron, Fred and George." She said quickly.

"Right, of course." Hermione nodded as comprehension dawned, having not spent the last year with the Order, she often forgot she was considered as one of the top members.

Meanwhile Zacharias continued to wine. "Well, how was I supposed to know what was going on, you didn't keep me informed."

"Didn't we?" Hermione said in mock surprise, "I wonder how that happed? Tell me, Smith, where's you're galleon?"

Zacharias scoffed, "I don't know, when it didn't burn for weeks, I probably misplaced it. Or spent it – they were pretty convincing counterfeits."

"Well, I know where it is. All DA members still have their galleons. I know because I regained possession of them all in July. Those who noticed that their coin had disappeared asked me about them, and I returned them. The rest went to the Ministry, with the extra one hundred I made at the Ministers request." She said, and to prove her point Ginny, Dean and Neville all pulled the string around their necks, from inside their shirt to show a galleon dangling on it, while Luna and Parvati held up their wrists to show their coins making part of a charm bracelet.

Hermione couldn't help but feel a kind of familial pride; the bond of the DA was one to rival the bond of the Order. The Pride flared momentarily, but quick enough she was seething at Zacharias once again.

"And don't start getting all high and mighty about us never using them, because we did." Hermione continued, in a voice that had gone dangerously low: the entire class seemed to be holding their breath at the sudden tension in the room, even the professor didn't interrupt to take control of the class.

Hermione continued: "Tell me Zacharias, where were you the night Dumbledore died? Where were you when we called an emergency meeting on the coins? We knew something was going to happen, we knew Dumbledore was leaving the school for a few hours that night, so we called for help. We knew we had the order stationed around the perimeter, but what about inside the castle? There was only the DA – and correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't remember seeing _you_ fighting the Death Eaters that came through the vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement." She said in a conversational tone of threatening calm.

No one breathed for what seemed like an eternity, and Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat – he didn't want to think about that night, everything that had happened that night had been his doing, and he was ashamed of the part he had played in it: he had regretted his actions even as he was doing them.

He had never seen eye-to-eye with his father, he didn't particularly share his views, yet somehow, somewhere along the line he had found himself being branded with the Dark Mark, given a personal mission from the Dark Lord, and following in his father's footsteps – which, incidentally, had happened to be the last thing in the world he had ever wanted to do.

Thankfully, the teacher had now decided to continue the class,

"I think that's enough talking for today's lesson. I want to see how much you can remember: we're going to work on our non-verbal ability – it's something you should all be familiar with at this level of your education. Divide into pairs, one person is going to attack, the other defend how you see fit – be it a shield charm, a counter jinx, anything. Just make sure it's non-verbal. I want to see the level of wand work we're all working at." He declared.

"Maybe we should partner up with someone we don't really know." Hermione called out, continuing before the teacher could object.

"For example, I know Ginny very well, and having fought alongside her on a fair few occasions, even when she's casting non-verbally, I know her style well enough to know what she's about to do and when. In the real world, we won't know our opponents that well, so we won't have that advantage. So say I was to partner Smith, for example, well then that would be better practice, as I'm not familiar with his style of mediocre wand-waving which he presumes to call spell-casting." Hermione spoke calmly, as if it was merely a light-hearted suggestion, with innocently academic motives.

Ginny had let out a snort of laughter and covered her mouth, trying to control her laughter at Hermione's description of Smith's magic. Hermione could feel Ginny shaking with the silent laughter beside her, a few other students sniggered, and she even saw Draco smirk at her out of the corner of her eye, but she kept her focus on the professor, maintaining an air of innocence as if her suggestion was purely academic and had nothing to do with wanting to hex Smith into oblivion.

"Maybe not today, Miss Granger. Just stick with the person sitting next to you for now." He said with a hint of a smile, before shaking his head. "Clearly I am going to have watch this class carefully."

The class stood behind their desks and readied themselves to duel; Hermione turned to Ginny,

"Want me to go easy on you?" She smirked, adding for an extra irate effect: "I did promise Ron I'd look out for you, after all."

Ginny almost growled "Quit it, Hermione, I'm pretty sure I can take you. And also, quit with the smirks, you're turning into Malfoy." She retaliated: If it was one thing Ginny hated, it was her family's perpetual need to try and mollycoddle her.

Hermione dropped the smirk immediately, and gave Ginny what could only be described as a death glare – why was everyone suddenly comparing her to Malfoy? First Andie, now Ginny, Hermione was starting to get irate herself. But she knew she had riled Ginny, which meant she had an inkling of the curse she was about to hurl at her: no doubt it would be her infamous Bat-Bogey hex, that she had modified last year making it a lot harder to reverse, should you get hit.

Unfortunately for Ginny, what she didn't know was that Hermione had also modified a few spells herself, one of which was a repelling jinx, which could repel a spell and cast it back upon the sender. She hadn't intended to use this spell, but after Ginny's comment, Hermione was suddenly feeling a little less candid toward the redhead.

The girls readied themselves into their personal duelling stances. Hermione watched Ginny carefully, saw the tell-tale glint in her eye, paused for three seconds and then silently cast her own charm. Immediately, Ginny was engulfed in the giant bogies with bat wings that she had intended to send to Hermione, but that had now glued themselves to Ginny's hair and robes.

Hermione creased over in laughter, as Ginny shrieked. "Jesus Christ, Hermione! What the Hell have you done to me?!"

Hermione laughed even harder, "Me, Ginny? I believe that's your spell, I simply repelled it." She managed to laugh out, trying to sound innocent.

As the girls were one of the first pairs to start working, the commotion brought the attention of most of the class.

"You did more than repel it, didn't you?" Ginny yelled, clearly not as amused as Hermione seemed to be. "You've been modifying again haven't you, you bitch? The least you could do is tell me so I know what to expect. I bloody well told you, didn't I?" She complained, with exasperation, a hint of admiration and a tiny smile at her best friend's cunning.

Hermione continued to laugh: the best part about her modification was that only the caster of the repelling charm could lift the result – and unfortunately for Ginny, Hermione hadn't been told the counter-jinx to Ginny's modification.

As Ginny struggled to free herself of the jinx, getting more irate as every attempt failed, Hermione laughed harder, not realising how closely the pair of Slytherins at the front of the room was watching them.

The high peel of laughter conveying genuine mirth, and the accompanying chastising shriek, had immediately distracted both Blaise and Draco. Draco turned to see his new room-mate bent over double, one hand clutching her stomach, one hand clutching the table in an effort to keep her upright. At first he thought she had been hit with a severe tickling charm, but no, she was just _that _amused at what had happened to her friend.

Blaise had likewise been distracted, and couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the two usually unruffled Gryffindors looking so unrefined.

As Draco listened to the girls' discussion he soon fathomed that the jinx currently taunting Ginny was the redhead's own, Hermione was only responsible for the repelling. He was impressed, and couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

Draco and Blaise watched in silence as the Professor went over to try and regain some control over the situation – knowing the talents of the two witches in question, both boys knew it was going to be a losing battle for the Professor.

Draco mentioned this thought out loud, adding, "And from the look on Granger's face, she knows the teacher isn't going to be able to do jack shit. I think she has all the power here."

"You reckon?" Blaise said "Fifty galleons says the She-Weasley will get herself out of this fix, no help from anyone."

Draco smirked, "You're on. Fifty says only Granger can relieve Weaselette from her predicament."

The boys shook on the deal, and then leant back against their desk, arms folded across their chests, to enjoy the show with matching grins.

Professor Fidelis was standing next to Ginny, "What's the counter jinx?" he asked, "If you're going to use a modified jinx, you should at least know what the modified counter-jinx is." He chastised.

"I do know, but it's not working." Ginny explained indignantly, "At least, not when I do it." She added, glaring at her partner, beginning to suspect what Hermione's full modification just might be.

Hermione had now turned to face her desk, as another snort of laughter escaped her. Using both hands to steady herself, she tried to regain control of her laughter. She had a flush to her face that hadn't been there this morning, and the laughter had brought back the fire to her eyes, and Draco suddenly found himself admiring the view.

He didn't think he had ever seen Granger really let go like this; she was always so serious, as if she had a lot on her mind – which, considering she was at the front line of an impending war for nearly half her Hogwarts life, wasn't really that surprising. When he looked at her properly, especially when she was laughing like this, he was surprised to find that she was actually rather attractive. And the way she was currently leaning had allowed for the front of her robes to slip down, displaying the rather fitted shirt underneath; as the weather was still rather warm, and in preparation for the mini-duel, Hermione had loosened her tie and undone the top two buttons –

Draco shook himself, what the hell was wrong with him? This was entirely inappropriate, and he cursed Blaise – it was, after all, him who first put the idea of Granger's attractiveness into his head.

"I'm going to bloody well kill you." Draco muttered dangerously, his grin quickly turning to a scowl.

"What the hell did I do now?" Blaise asked, offended, and in genuine confusion as he tore his eyes away from the disruptive duo. He looked at Draco, and then followed his friend's eye line – Draco was still looking at Hermione.

Blaise smirked knowingly, "Ahhh. You've finally realised that Granger is actually a fine specimen to indulge the eyes, and you're blaming me for enlightening you to the fact."

"Shut it." Draco snapped, listening to the rest of the conversation developing between the two Gryffindors and the Professor, while Blaise chuckled quietly at his side.

"How did you counter the jinx Hermione?" The professor asked, after trying various counter jinxes himself, but to no avail. By now the rest of the class had stopped to watch the infamous duo.

"With a modified repelling charm." Hermione said through her laughter, now biting her bottom lip while still shaking, trying to keep the laughs from exploding out of her.

"Modified how?" Both the professor and Ginny asked at the same time, though the Professor asked it curiously, while Ginny breathed it through clenched teeth. Ginny's reaction only increased Hermione's mirth, she knew she was going to pay for this later, but at the same time Ginny had a great sense of humour, so Hermion knew she would be forgiven before the end of Lunch.

"Only the caster of the repelling charm can remove the effects. In other words, only I can lift Ginny's jinx from her." A Laugh escaped Hermione, "But she never told me the counter jinx for her modified jinx." She doubled over again. "So I can't do anything right now."

Draco turned to Blaise, a smug look on his face. "You owe me fifty Galleons." He said.

When Hermione had finally overcome her giggles long enough to release Ginny from her own brand of hell, the class was re-organised, and the rest of the lesson was spent discussing spell modifications. The class was dismissed at the bell, but not before they were given homework: a roll of parchment on the pitfalls to using modified jinxes and hexes. Apparently Professor Fidelis wanted to use Hermione and Ginny's little scene as a learning exercise.

The rest of Hermione's first day was uneventful compared to the morning, and by dinnertime, Hermione's mood had seemed to settle. After dinner, however, irritations seemed intended to be renewed. As she rose from the table, bidding goodbye to her new Gryffindor clique that had been inadvertently formed, Ginny stood up to leave with her.

"You owe me a tour of your tower." She said, in a tone that brokered no opposition.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Fine. But it's not going to be a full tour, I'm tired and I've got homework to do. I'll give you a proper tour at the weekend." She said, leading Ginny out of the hall.

As they travelled along the corridors, Ginny started to question Hermione.

"So, there's a lot that happened last year that you three haven't told me, isn't there?"

Hermione sighed, and looked at Ginny, slightly desperately.

"There's a lot that happened that we haven't told _anyone_. There were things that were bad enough living through once, we don't want to go through the retelling." She said, hoping Ginny would understand.

Ginny nodded, "I get that, I do. But I'm not talking about what really went on in Gringotts, or the aftermath of the Ministry. I'm talking about the things you found out: Like Snape for example. You can't just drop a bombshell like you did today in Defence, and not expect some questions." Ginny argued, sensibly.

Hermione sighed as they came to the painting that marked the entrance to the Head's Tower – the painted castle was now bathed in the late afternoon sunshine, that Hermione knew to be shining outside the real castle's windows. Hermione gave the password, and entered, closely followed by Ginny.

"I knew I was going to regret that little outburst," Hermione said, tossing her school bag up onto the large study table, then turning to look at her friend.

"I can't, Gin. It's not my secret to tell." She explained.

"Come on Hermione, you owe me." Ginny pestered, as the painting swung open, admitting Draco, who was closely followed by Blaise - apparently they were joined at the hip now, Hermione thought.

"After today's defence class, I deserve some gossip. What do you know about Snape that no one else knows?" Ginny asked.

"I second that question." Blaise said, catching the last of Ginny's speech, and inviting himself into the girls' conversation.

Hermione turned and frowned, "Zabini." She greeted, "This is supposed to be the head's tower, to allow us to get away from all the other students, why are you here?"

"Same reason as She-Weasley, apparently. I want to know the dirt on Snape." He said with his trade mark grin, clearly not at all offended by the less than warm welcome.

"I wouldn't mid hearing what you know, either." added Draco, dropping into a seat near the fire. "Start talking, Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes, and sighed. She turned into the kitchen, flicking her wand at the large copper kettle, which refilled itself and started to boil.

"I'll happily talk," Hermione said, making her way into the kitchen to make tea, "But not about Severus." She told them as Blaise and Ginny also made their way to the couches.

"Technically, I shouldn't know this stuff anyway." She started ranting, as she was retrieving mugs from a cupboard under the breakfast bar.

"Severus gave his memories to Harry as he was dieing. Harry wouldn't have told me anything if I hadn't already guessed some of it anyway, based on my observations over the years, which were then confirmed with Severus' last words." She said, once again without thinking.

"You were there when he died?" Draco asked. Hermione lifted her head and saw Draco staring at her with a strange look in his eye.

Hermione mentally kicked herself; she really needed to sleep better, apparently tiredness caused a form of verbal diarrhoea in her, where she seemed to tell anyone absolutely anything.

She gave a small nod, and figuring she had already said too much, telling them exactly how he had died wouldn't make much difference now. "He was bitten by Nagini, repeatedly. But he wasn't eaten; he was just left to bleed out. And this conversation is now over." She said abruptly, turning around as the kettle began to whistle, to busy herself with making the tea.

"But can't you tell us just one tiny detail?" Ginny practically whined, "Like who was the other person who knew Snape's other side? And how and when exactly did they die?"

Not wanting to cater to the whims and demands of the two Slytherins, nor much wanting to indulge the nagging red-head, she made a pot up, and sent it to the coffee table on a tray with four mugs, a jug of milk and a dish of sugar. Hermione sat on the couch next to Ginny, and poured herself a mug of tea, then leaned back into the couch: _the three pests can damn well make their own teas_. Hermione thought to herself, before speaking out loud:

"That was two questions, Ginny. Neither of which I'm answering, by the way. There is only one person you can get that information from, and that is Severus himself." She said, with a note of finality in her voice, which told the other three that the conversation was most definitely over, now.

The other three continued to look at her, as she took a drink. "What?" She snapped irritably, lowering her mug.

"Nice hosting skills, Granger." Draco said, indicating the mug in her hand. "What about the rest of us?"

Hermione scowled, "I made a pot, didn't I? There are three more mugs there, isn't there? Milk and sugar, everything you need. What more do you want from me? You're not at your manor now, Malfoy. Suck it up and make your own." She told him.

Blaise sniggered; he had never heard anyone talk to his friend in such a way. If anyone had come close to even thinking of speaking in such a way, that person had been hexed pretty quickly and never indulged such a thought again. He turned to Draco to see how he was going to take this new level of disrespect, from the Gryffindor Princess no less. Blaise was expecting retaliation: angry words, snide comments, possibly even a wand drawn. What he wasn't prepared for was Draco's actual reaction.

Draco rolled his eyes and huffed. Muttering something about "insufferable Gryffindors" and "high and mighty" he leaned forward and proceeded to pour his own drink, while his friend looked on with raised eyebrows.

Hermione allowed herself a smug smirk at winning this particular argument, but decided not to gloat, as that was very un-ladylike behaviour to exhibit, especially in front of guests. She therefore simply stood, muttered something about homework, and made her way up to the large table where her bag was waiting for her. She was joined a moment later by Ginny, with her own mug in her hand, and the pair got out their homework and began to work in silence.

Blaise was still looking at Draco in amusement, when the blonde noticed, he sighed in frustration.

"What now?" Draco demanded, adding "Don't even think of asking me to pour yours, you can damn well serve yourself like the rest of us."

Blaise nodded, leaned forward to get his tea, and stifling a chuckle he asked:

"So, living with the Gryffindor Princess, how's that going?"

Draco heard the laughter in his voice, and scowled. "Last night was fine. This morning she seems to have got out of the wrong side of bed. Apparently she didn't sleep well, and that messes with her temper. She is going to be a nightmare to live with." He complained.

Blaise chuckled, "I reckon she'll say the same about you. I mean you're temper isn't exactly easy. Look at this morning, all it took was Pansy to turn you into a royal git." He said. "Once you get used to each other, you'll figure out how to live in relative peace I'm sure." He tried to reason.

When Draco refused to respond, deciding instead to just sit there and glare, Blaise decided to try another angle. "And plus, that shared bathroom can't be all bad: how much does the shower steam up?" He asked, with his cheeky grin back in place – Blaise had already been given a tour of the tower at lunch and was familiar with the facilities.

Draco put his head back and closed his eyes, "For the love of the Gods, Zabini! You have a problem, do you know that?"

* * *

_**A/N: Just a little bit of a fun chapter - I didn't originally plan for the first day to last so long, but once I got writing DADA it just kept coming to me. But we will be moving at a much quicker pace, as I am very excited to get to Hallowe'en and Christmas, where the clichés and real Dramione action starts to kick off. **_

_**The next chapter is almost finished, a couple more pages to go then I'll be posting it, I should hopefully have it up tonight :)**_

_**Let me know what you guys thought, your opinion means a lot to me.**_

_**Thanks again for reading,**_

_**xBx**_


	12. Chapter 12:Striving for Normality

_**A/N: Sorry for the delay, I had internet issues and was offline for fifteen hours! But here it is, finally, and this chapter is a fair bit longer than the last. I hope you enjoy :)**_

_**Oh, yeah, one little thing...the page number in the textbook...I just couldn't resist, I had to put it in ;)**_

_**xBx**_

* * *

**~ Chapter 12: Striving for Normality is an Uphill Struggle ~**

After such an eventful first day, Hermione found the rest of her week to be monotonously boring. Her lessons were just as they always had been and her free periods she did intend on spending in the library, but that all fell apart on the Thursday. On one of the odd frees which they had together, Draco had been enjoying the rare peace and quiet of the Head's Tower (which certain Gryffindors had now taken to spending their evenings in), when the painting slammed inwards and Hermione stormed in, ranting.

"My table, _my_ table. What makes people think I want to share _my_ table with them?" she muttered angrily, stomping up the step and slamming her bag onto the large wooden table.

Draco raised his eyebrow, "You right, there?" he asked, echoing Hermione's words from the other day, when he had entered, exhibiting a similar display.

Hermione looked up, and continued her rant more audibly. "It's_my_ table." She said.

"Riiiight," Draco said, clearly non-the wiser as to what she was going on about.

"That clears that up." He said looking back at his parchment.

"Ever since my first week here, that was my table," she continued. Draco sighed quietly, put his quill down mumbling, "and she hasn't finished yet."

Draco sat up and leaned back in his chair, as Hermione continued to rant at him.

"I've always sat at that table, whenever Harry Ron and I went to the library, that was where we would sit. It was our table! People used to respect that, it was commonly accepted. Why is it now being overtaken, by irritating third years? And _why_ do they think I would want them to join me, while I'm working peacefully? They just come and sit down, without waiting to be invited. And then they stare at me! As if I'm some sort of hero! They just stare! It's infuriating!" she said, loudly, finally throwing herself into her seat with a huff.

"Better now?" Draco asked.

"A little." She said grudgingly, and then sighed her anger giving way.

"I just want my table back," she whined, "I want the peace back. I'm Hermione Granger, the bookworm, who people leave alone while she's studying."

"Not anymore." Draco told her. "Granger, people look at you like you're a hero, because to them you are a hero. You're not going to escape that in the castle, no matter where you go. Except for here, this is our little sanctuary now." He indicated to their tower.

"Why do you think I don't study in the library anymore? Wherever I go, I get loathing glares and ill mutterings. Not quite the same as all the adoration poured forth to you, but it's still just as irritating and distracting. Face it Granger, this isn't the Hogwarts we once knew. The only peace and quiet we're going to get is in here."

Hermione sighed, "I know." She said resigned, taking her things from her bag.

"Now, quit your wining, and get to work. I could use your help for the Arithmancy task we got set this morning." Draco said, picking up his quill, and frowning back at his parchment.

Hermione couldn't help but grin, "Are you actually asking for _my_help?" She asked, hardly believing it.

Draco looked up and scowled, "Don't gloat, Granger. It's only one subject I'm not on a level with you, let's not get carried away now. It's hard enough for me to ask for help, I don't need you rubbing it in. But I need top grades if I want a career in the Ministry, so I'm going to have to swallow my pride to get it." He admitted.

Hermione stopped her gloating, and pulled a bag from her bag, which she had just checked from the Library.

"Here," she said, pushing the book across the table, "I was just doing the assignment in the library before the children interrupted me. There's a good chapter, more detail than our textbook. Turn to page 394, that's the chapter you need."

Draco took the book gratefully, "Thanks."

Hermione sat for a moment, then asked, "You want to go into the Ministry?"

Draco nodded without looking up, "You have a problem with that?"

"No, of course not. Any idea what department?" Hermione asked conversationally.

"Not really. Though sometimes hiding away in the Department of Mysteries doesn't sound bad." Draco joked.

Hermione laughed, "I think that sometimes, but that's not an option for me." She told him.

Draco looked up and frowned, "Why not? Surely any department would take you, no questions asked, after saving the Wizarding World." he commented dryly.

Hermione looked down at her parchments, "They don't like me in the Department of Mysteries," she said trying to exude a calm nonchalance, without laughing.

Draco's eyes narrowed, "Does that have something to do with slight disruption you and your friends caused, the night my Father was arrested in there." he asked.

"Maybe," Hermione said evasively, then added after a few seconds: "And it was more total carnage, as opposed to slight disruption." she admitted with an embarrassed laugh.

Draco was silent for a moment, then he himself laughed, before shaking his head and returning to his work.

The pair worked in relative silence for the next half an hour, asking the odd question here and there, to ascertain if they were both coming up with similar solutions.

Five minutes before twelve, Hermione packed up her things, leaving most of her books on the table, taking only her wand and books for her single charms class before lunch.

"Do you need this back?" Draco asked, picking up the textbook he was still using.

Hermione shook her head, "Not yet, you can keep using it. Do you not have a class now, though?"

Draco shook his head and turning back to his parchment, "Double free." He said as explanation.

"Just leave it on the table for me, if that's alright? I have another free, last period, I'll want to use it then." She asked.

Draco nodded, "Sure." He said as Hermione made her way out.

Once Hermione started avoiding the library during break times and Lunch, only going in during a free period when it was free of the younger students, she found her personal study time far less stressful.

Her last class of the week was another double session of Defence Against the Darks Arts: they continued their work on non-verbal casting, which a few members of the class were still having some difficulties with. They also spent the last twenty minutes going over their assignment from their first lesson, engaging in a group discussion about spell-modification.

When class was dismissed, Ginny turned to Hermione; "You want to hit the Library? Make a start on our Transfiguration homework before dinner?"

Hermione couldn't help but look a little shocked at Ginny's readiness, "Isn't that my line?" she said, "You're kind of stealing my swotty-thunder, there Gin."

Ginny laughed, "I know, that's not something I'd usually say." She agreed as the pair left the classroom, "But I have Quidditch trials tomorrow afternoon, so I want to get something done tonight, because you just know I am going to sleep in tomorrow, despite my best intentions." She admitted.

Hermione laughed, "I would, but I have a meeting with McGonagall. I have to be at her office at four thirty," she explained. "But, if you could grab some books we might need from the Library, come back to the tower after dinner, and we can make a proper start then." Hermione compromised, knowing full well that Ginny would accomplish nothing on her own on a Friday night.

Ginny grinned, "Sounds like a plan," she said as Draco caught up with the pair.

"Are you planning on walking any faster any time soon, Granger. We have to be in the Headmistresses office in five minutes." He told her, not sounding thrilled at the meeting.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I'll see you later Ginny." She said, as the redhead turned towards the Library and Hermione carried on with Draco, toward the Headmistresses office.

As they gave the Gargoyle the password, and stepped onto the moving staircase, Hermione suddenly felt nervous: the last time she had been in this office was right after the final battle. The conversation she had had with McGonagall and Kingsley about her future plans had taken place in McGonagall's old office on the transfiguration floor.

Hermione knocked on the door, pushing it open when McGonagall called for them to enter.

The room wasn't much different to how she remembered it back in Dumbledore's day, with the obvious exception that Fawkes was now noticeably absent, and the table of strange spindly objects had been removed and replaced with a table covered in various artefacts reflecting McGonagall's Scottish heritage. McGonagall sat behind her desk, and signalled for Hermione and Draco to take two of the four chairs in front of her.

Hermione took her seat with a smile, pleased to find that while McGonagall hadn't provided the comfy armchairs Dumbledore was so fond of, she had at least supplied them with rather comfortable, cushioned seats, as opposed to the wooden chairs she used to favour.

"I trust your first week hasn't been too disappointing for you?" She asked, as the pair sat down.

"Can't complain." Draco said politely, Hermione looked at him quickly with a quirk of an eyebrow, before shaking her head. Sure, he wouldn't complain to the Headmistress, but Hermione had heard her fair share of his complaints over the week.

"So far, so good." Hermione responded, taking the high road like her co-head.

"And your living arrangements are to your satisfaction?" McGonagall asked.

Draco nodded, and Hermione spoke, "Very much. I don't think I would have enjoyed living in Gryffindor Tower this year. I've already been driven out the library thanks to all the stares and whispering. I probably would have hexed someone by now if I'd have had to endure the common room every night." She admitted, earning herself and indulging chuckle, and a less than amused scoff from two of the portraits on the wall.

Hermione looked up to see Albus Dumbledore smiling down at her, with a twinkle in his eye. She looked to the portrait next to him and saw Severus Snape shaking his head, muttering.

"You've clearly spent too much time with Potter. Just because you helped save the Wizarding World you think you have a sense of entitlement that allows you free reign to do as you please." Severus told her.

Hermione chuckled, "It's nice to see you too, Severus." She said, smiling up at the portrait, causing Albus to laugh again.

"Yes, well," McGonagall said, before it could get out of hand. "We're just waiting on the two deputies to join us, then I will get down to business."

"They shouldn't be two far behind us." Draco said, "We were all in the same class."

"How was your defence class?" McGonagall asked, "No more issues with modified spells I trust?"

Hermione had the decency to turn pink, and look a little embarrassed. "It had been a long morning," Hermione said avoiding their Headmistress' eyes. Draco snorted with laughter, and Hermione shot him a dark look.

"Quite." McGonagall said with a hint of a smile, as there was another knock at the door.

"Enter!" McGonagall called, and finally Smith and Luna joined the meeting, taking the two seats at either side of Hermione and Draco, who had taken the middle two. Draco's smirk that had lingered from Hermione's embarrassment was wiped away as Luna had taken the seat next to Hermione, leaving Smith no choice but to sit next to Draco. The blonde scowled at the Hufflepuff, but at least Smith was silent this time, which greatly improved him in Draco's opinnion.

McGonagall proceeded with the meeting right away, "First of all, are there any issues any of you would like to present to me? Anything you feel needs to be addressed before we can continue?"

The looked at each other, then back at their Headmistress, all shaking their heads: their first week had had no complaints from the Prefects, and no real responsibilities for them to carry out. All that would start on Monday.

"Good." McGonagall continued, briskly. "Have you had your first meeting with the prefects yet?" She asked.

"Not yet," Hermione answered, "We've planned to have our meetings on Mondays, starting next week."

"We didn't see the point of scheduling one the first day of term: we told them all they needed to know for their first week on the train." Draco explained their decision.

McGonagall nodded, "Make sure the time and place of the meeting goes up in the prefect dorms before Monday morning, please." The heads nodded, and McGonagall continued.

"As far as I'm aware, the rota you came up with for corridor duty seems to be fine this week. I'm sure if the students have any qualms they'll bring them to you on Monday. I have here a list of dates for Hogsmeade visits." She then handed a copy of the list to each of them. "If you can arrange the necessary supervisions required ahead of time, and make sure each date appears in the house common rooms two weeks in advance."

"This year, the school is intending to try and right the wrongs of the past. Over the years, what has started as good-natured competition between the houses, has turned into a great divide. While we will still be having the inter-house Quidditch competition and we will still award the House Cup at the end of the year, I really want to start promoting inter-house unity." McGonagall explained,

"So your main tasks over the next couple of weeks it to come up with as many ideas as you can as to how we can achieve this. Also, as you will be aware, Muggle Studies is now a mandatory subject. We have been gravely ignorant in the past of the muggles whom we share this country with. This ignorance is undoubtedly, partly to blame for past mistakes, and we really need to increase our understanding and tolerance – again, something for you to come up with ideas to help us achieve this. I would like you to include all this in your meeting with the prefects on Monday: the more of you that work on this, the better." She told them, in her no-nonsense voice, brokering no argument.

"For now, that is everything. Obviously, further into the year, there will be other tasks for you to undertake. But for now, I would like you and your prefects to concentrate on these two in particular. We will have our next meeting in two weeks time, but if you come up with anything before then, please arrange a meeting to go over it with me." McGonagall checked the clock on the wall,

"It's already past five, you can head down to the Hall for dinner." She dismissed them.

Without speaking, the four students rose in unison and proceeded out of the office.

"What time are we doing the prefect meeting on Monday?" Luna asked as they stepped on the moving spiral staircase. "Lunch?" She asked,

Hermione was about to answer when Smith interrupted, with a grumble. "Great, fifteen minutes to eat, and hour of prefects bitching, and late to class."

Hermione frowned at Smith, then smirked as she had an idea. "Maybe Zacharias has a point." She said, noticing that Draco gave her an incredulous look as if she had gone mad.

She continued in a heartbeat, not giving Draco the chance to interrupt. "We will have a lot to go over with them, so our Lunch break probably won't be long enough to discuss everything and have a decent amount of time to eat. I suggest we meet them at four-thirty. That gives everyone fifteen minutes after our class to get there. Dinner is served right up until 7pm, as long as we're finished by 6.30, we'll have plenty of time to eat." Hermione explained. Draco's incredulous look shifted back to his trademark smirk, realising what Hermione had done:

"That would give us a good long meeting of two hours, rather than trying to cram it into fourty-five minutes." Draco clarified, looking at Smith, who was glowering even worse at this change of timing. "And the best bit, Smith, is now you wont have to worry about being late for class, and you won't have to rush your meal."

Luckily, they had reached the gargoyle at this point, and Smith stormed off toward the Great Hall without looking back, as Hermione and Luna laughed.

"I doubt the meeting will go for two hours, in fact I think it would have fit into lunch time fine." Hermione admitted, "But I do love to piss that boy off. And until I can get to partner him in Defence, this is my only release."

Draco shook his head, and the trio continued to follow Smith's path in their own time. "Don't get your hopes up for that too soon, I'm pretty sure Fidelis is going to keep you two separate: he knows you can't stand Smith and he knows what you're capable of."

###

Hermione's Friday night was the most relaxed she'd been since she had returned to Hogwarts. Ginny accompanied her back to her Tower, and the pair worked on McGonagall's Transfiguration assignment, and other homework, for a couple of hours, discussing their answers, and talking about the general things they usually talk about.

Draco returned to the tower not long after the girls, followed as usual by Blaise. The boys sat at the opposite side of the table, keeping to themselves and echoing the Girls' work ethic. Where their subjects interchanged, the four would sometimes call a quick question across the table, and a small discussion would arise. At one point Blaise and Ginny became distracted by Quidditch and the renewal of the strong Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry, while Draco joined in at one point, it was one comment and a reminder that Blaise had a lot of work to do.

"Can you leave your debate with the Weaselette until later? I would like to finish this before midnight." He chided.

By 9 o'clock, Hermione had had enough, she threw her quill down, declaring: "I'm done for the night."

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Ginny exclaimed, throwing down her quill as well, "I was ready to give up an hour ago, but I knew you'd bitch at me if I did."

Hermione laughed, and leaned back in her chair stretching her arms over her head, and rolling her shoulders back a few times.

"You know what would be perfect?" She said to Ginny, "A glass of wine, just to finish the evening."

Ginny laughed, but nodded. "And a cheese platter." She added.

"Yes, it's one of those nights, a bottle of red, some cheese and biscuits in front of the fire." Hermione sighed wistfully, "If only."

Ginny thought for a moment, then shrugged, "it's got to be possible: George managed it easy enough, all those times they got food and drink for the Quidditch parties."

Hermione noticed that Ginny had refrained from saying Fred's name, but she let it pass – she was conscious of the two Slytherins at the other end of the table: though they weren't particularly paying attention to the girls, Hermione still didn't want to broach the subject in front of them.

"The food is no issue, we can get anything we want from the kitchens." Hermione agreed, "It's the wine that's the issue. We can't get that from the kitchens, the elves will be under strict orders to only give students pumpkin juice."

"Well, how did George manage it, then?" Ginny asked sceptically.

Hermione grinned, "Hogsmeade. Only trouble is, I don't reckon we could do it they way they did it." Hermione aid thoughtfully,

"I'm pretty sure the secret passageways aren't secret anymore – Wormtail will have told Riddle everything he knew," she said with contempt, "So naturally, the information will have gone to Severus, so it logically follows that the teachers know of them all now. I should have got the map from Harry, that would have helped I bet." She mumbled as an afterthought

"Hang on," Ginny held up her hand, "Passageways? And map?"

Hermione grinned again, "So much you don't know about what we got up to in school."

By this point, both Draco and Blaise had stopped working, to listen.

"Are you saying there are passageways out of the school and into Hogsmeade?" Blaise asked,

Hermione frowned, "Private conversation, Zabini."

Blaise held up his hands, and gestured to the room, "Then don't hold it at a table with two other people." He pointed out.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Touché" she said, then continued, deciding to answer Blaise.

"There used to be seven passageways out of the school, but over time Filch discovered most of them, bar three. Out of the remaining three, one has caved in, one leads to Honeydukes, from inside the castle, and the other leads to the shrieking shack, from out in the grounds."

"And do you know where the entrances to these tunnels are?" Draco prompted.

"Of course I do. I've used them both." Hermione said. "But I'm not telling you."

She turned back to Ginny, "I reckon the one inside the castle will either have been destroyed or is still being watched. I know Severus had someone watching it last year, in case we entered the castle that way. I don't know about the shrieking shack. It's a pretty difficult one to get into, unless you know how to, and not many do. In fact, I think it's safe to assume that the only people alive who do know how are Harry, Ron and myself. So chances are, that tunnel is still there, and is usable."

"How often did you use these passageways?" Draco asked, intrigued. He'd always thought Granger was a real stickler for the rules, but here she was admitting to sneaking out of the school, illegally, and on more than one occasion.

"Not often. We used them in third year, then last June." Hermione shrugged, "I have to admit, after how third year ended, I'd had enough of those passages to last a while."

Ginny frowned, "What happened?" she asked warily, thinking back, "That was my second year, when we had Lupin for defence, right?" she clarified.

Hermione nodded, and Ginny continued. "Does this have something to do with how Buckbeak ended up with Sirius?" she asked, suddenly. "I can't believe I never asked you about that before now."

Hermione grinned, "Maybe," she said, not giving anything away.

"All I'll say is that night felt long. It was as if it lasted six hours, instead of three." She said evasively, still grinning. Ginny's confused look sent Hermione into giggles; she threw her head back and laughed, before rising from her seat.

"Ask me no questions, I'll tell you know lies, Ginny." She said, patting her on the arm. She could see the wheels turning in Ginny's mind, trying to de construct what Hermione had said. Ginny knew enough of Hermione to know that her comment out about three hours feeling like six was more than just a flippant remark.

Hermione went over to the kitchen, saying as she went:"Since wine is a no go, I guess it's a cup of tea."

###

Hermione's weekend was fairly tranquil, Saturday afternoon she spent down at Hagrid's, with Luna and Neville, while Ginny held her Quidditch trials. Sunday she spent with Ginny and Parvati, who both Joined Hermione in her sitting room.

"Oh my God!" Parvati exclaimed, when she first saw the room, "Hermione, this is amazing!"

Hermione grinned, "It's actually a replica of my rooms at home. Even the book collection is exactly the same, its quite astounding really." She told them.

Parvati raised her eyebrows, "Sounds like you've been holding out on us about your muggle heritage." Parvati said knowingly, but Hermione just shrugged it off and said instead.

"Feel free to borrow any of the books. There are a lot of good muggle novels in there."

Parvati smiled, and got the hint that Hermione wouldn't be talking any time soon.

"Thanks," she said, going to inspect the bookcases, saying as she did. "How were your trials, Ginny?"

"Pretty good, actually." Ginny said from where she was sprawled on a couch, "It's a completely new team. I'm sticking as Chaser, I hated seeking, Dean's back on the team as a chaser. But apart from us it's a fresh team, they've all got skill, and with a little training, when we get to working together, we should be in with a real chance at the cup."

Ginny continued to talk about Quidditch with Parvati, while Hermione sat at the table near the balcony, finally writing the letter she had promised her Mother and Father. She then wrote a letter to Harry, giving him a similar overview of her first week that she had written to he parents, enclosing a copy of the Hogsmeade dates, adding:

_I will be on duty at some point during the weekend, but as it will only last for a couple hours, and I'll make sure I'm stationed at the emergency meeting point in The Three Broomsticks over the lunch time period, it won't interfere with our plans (the perks of power and having the final say!)_

_Hope you're still enjoying work, and the novelty hasn't worn off too soon – have you and Ron been given dates for leaving on your assignments yet?_

_I'm missing you both; it's strange being here without you. And I'm missing Teddy terrible – I want your reply to be full of stories about our Godson, I want to know everything he's been doing and what I'm missing out on! If you don't indulge me in this, Harry, I swear my next letter to you will be a Howler. And I'll make sure the owl delivers it to you at work!_

_Love Hermione._

Hermione grinned at her closing threat, she knew Harry would take her seriously, and it amused her to imagine the pains he would take in his response.

In Harry's letter, she also enclosed a small note to Ron. Hermione sighed and looked up from her parchments, the sun was visible out of her windows, which meant it would be setting soon.

"What time is it?" She asked suddenly.

Parvati looked up from her book to check her watch, "five-thirty, almost." She said, "Wow, the afternoon has gone quick."

Ginny laughed, "For you two, yeah. I've been slaving away with the homework I neglected yesterday." She grumbled, and then looked to Hermione, "What were you doing anyway, writing a novel?"

"Letters, to my parents and Harry." She said, "If I don't write soon they'll start worrying and nagging."

Ginny nodded, "So I was right, then. You were practically writing a novel." She grinned.

Parvati laughed, and Hermione threw a scrunched up scrap of blotched parchment at Ginny.

###

Monday passed in a bit of blur, it was the only day that Hermione had no free periods, so by the time it came to 4:30pm, she was starting to feel a little tired and she prayed Zacharias Smith was not in a difficult mood, because she sure as hell did not have the patience for it right now.

When Hermione got to the spare classroom in the charms corridor, at about twenty-past, Draco was already there waiting. He had moved the tables, and stacked them against the back hall, bar one against which he was currently leaning. The chairs were left in the centre of the room, in no particular order, put all facing the table on which Draco was perched.

Hermione walked over to the table, dumped her bag on the nearest chair, pulled the chair closer to the table, and then sat up on the table, resting her feet near her bag.

"I didn't expect you to be here so early, I came straight from Transfig'." She commented, making small talk – she and Draco had seemed to perfect this art over the past week, there was no hostility between them anymore. Granted, they had the odd rant and vented their frustrations to one another, sometimes, but it was nothing like the shouting matches they used to partake in. They had both most definitely grown up a lot the past year.

Draco shrugged, "I had double charms last, I was only two doors down. Seemed pointless to go back to the tower to drop off my bag, just to come all the way back." He explained, as the first prefects made their way in, followed by Luna and Zacharias.

Luna wordlessly summoned the nearest table, navigating it precisely around the few students already assembled, and placed it next to the table Hermione was sitting upon. Luna hopped up next to Hermione, and Zacharias perched wordlessly in a similar manor to Draco, on the other side.

Hermione and Luna chatted idly, as the waited for the room to fill. Finally, it seemed everyone was there, and Hermione started the meeting, by asking how their first week of duties had gone: thankfully there were no complaints, but a Hufflepuff did voice the question; "What do we do if we can't do our duty one night? Say we have a detention, or we're ill?"

Draco raised his eyebrow, was this kid for real? He couldn't figure this out on his own?

Hermione noticed the look, and jumped in to answer diplomatically, before Draco could release his sarcasm.

"Find someone to swap with, if you can't figure it out amongst yourselves, take it to one of the deputies, and they will make a final decision. Now, onto the main issue:" Hermione said, and she proceeded to relay the information that McGonagall had given the four Heads the previous Friday, about inter-house unity and understanding muggles.

"So what McGonagall wants from you, well us as well, are ideas of ways to promote inter-house unity, something to bring the houses together. And some sort of Muggle-awareness campaign, I guess." Hermione finished.

"And if we can come up with an idea that can incorporate both in one go, that could save us a lot of time and effort." Draco added.

"So, any ideas?" Zacharias asked, determined to appear like a leader in the meeting.

"Don't be shy," Luna said, as no one seemed like answering, "We'll listen to them all. and there are nowrackspurts around, so you're thoughts ideas wont disappear halfway through an explanation."

Hermione smiled; she saw Draco turn with a comical look of disbelief to look at Luna, his jaw dropped. Hermione caught his eye and shook her head, telling him not to ask.

A Ravenclaw spoke up first, "During the Tri-Wizard tournament, the Yule Ball was good for inter-house interaction, wasn't it?" she pointed out. "A lot of people had dates from other houses – in fact, I even remember one Ravenclaw going with a Slytherin." She informed, "Maybe there's something in that, perhaps we could try that again?"

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, "It could work," she admitted.

After seeing that a proposal wasn't going to be immediately rejected, a Gryffindor jumped in: "We could have some sort of muggle theme to it, that way you get your inter-house unity and muggle awareness into the same thing." He suggested.

"Like fancy dress?" Zacharias scoffed, "Come dressed as a muggle? It's hardly ball-worthy attire."

Because the Gryffindor looked slightly too put out my Smith's remark, Hermione jumped to his defence, "Clearly you've never seen a muggle ball gown." She growled at Smith, before turning back to the group.

"Rolling with the fancy dress idea, you could be onto something there." She told the Gryffindor, "Let's specify it a little bit more: instead of just general muggle attire, what about dressing as a specific person?"

"So like a notable muggle in history?" a Hufflepuff joined in. "Like Queen Victoria, or Jane Austen?" she said.

Hermione nodded, "Yeah, that way we could get a variety of period costumes, which always look good for a ball, very theatrical."

"And this could be something we can tie into those mandatory Muggle Studies classes some of us have," added another Ravenclaw. "instead of just learning about their ways, we can learn about certain individuals and their impact on society, and if or how that's impacted the Wizarding world."

"McGonagall would definitely go for that," Draco admitted reluctantly.

"Sounds acceptable so far," a Slytherin said, "But an elaborate fancy dress seems more suitable for Hallowe'en rather than a Yule Ball." She pointed out.

The Ravenclaw that had originally made the suggestion of bringing back the Yule Ball shrugged her shoulders,

"So we do it at Hallowe'en instead." She said, and then added, "In fact, Hallowe'en would probably be more successful as it's during term time, so everyone will be here. I reckon a lot of people will be going home for the Holidays, this year."

Hermione nodded at the truth of that statement, "So we're wanting to go with the themed ball idea?" she clarified, "And we're suggesting Hallowe'en as the proposed date?"

There was a general murmur of assent, and Hermione dug out a diary from her bag. "Well, Hallowe'en falls on a Thursday this year: so I would suggest proposing to McGonagall that we keep the Hallowe'en feast as normal, on the actual day itself, and have the Ball on Saturday."

Again their was a general murmur of assent, "Alright then, we'll run it past McGonagall later this week, and inform you of her decision at next weeks meeting." Hermione told them, before turning to her fellow heads, "Anything to add?" she asked them.

All three shook their heads, and Draco turned to the prefects, "Thanks for your time, you can go."

The prefects filed out, Zacharias and Luna lingered a moment to discuss the meeting with McGonagall, then they too left to make their way to dinner. Hermione remained and helped Draco right the room, before putting her quill and notebooks back in her bag.

"A fancy dress party?" Draco said as the chairs were righting themselves under the desks, "Really?"

Hermione shrugged, "We'll call it a themed ball, it sounds fancier." She said, fastening her bag and slinging it across her shoulder.

Draco snorted and shook his head, "It's still a little too…." Hermione looked at him with raised eyebrows as he struggled to find the right words.

"Yes?" she prompted him, folding her arms and leaning back against the desk she had recently been sitting on.

"High-school" he finished, finally and Hermione laughed.

"Well, guess what. We're in High-School, so suck it up." She told him with a smile.

Draco let out a frustrated sigh, and sat on a table facing Hermione, "I'm well aware of that, thank you, Granger." He commented dryly. "But, don't you ever feel that you've outgrown this place?" he asked her seriously.

Hermione gave a humourless laugh, and nodded. "Like you wouldn't believe." She told him, before sighing and adding, "I honestly couldn't see myself returning here. After last year I thought this would be the last place I would end up. But things happened and now I'm here, regardless of my original intentions."

"Suck it up." Draco smirked at her, repeating her own words back to her.

Hermione laughed, "Exactly." She nodded, causing Malfoy's smirk to turn into a smile similar to hers, and agreed "I need to suck it up too."

###

The next morning at breakfast, Hermione received a note from McGonagall in response to her request to set up a meeting with her some time this week: The four heads had an appointment with her on Wednesday, during morning break, in her classroom. Hermione made a mental note to tell the others at some point today, and returned to her breakfast.

Hermione lifted a slice of toast to her mouth, but stopped midway: Parvati was sat opposite her, she was giggling uncontrollably and had apparently received a copy of Witch Weekly in the morning post and it was the front cover which had stopped Hermione in her tracks.

"Erm, Parvati?" Hermione asked, "Why am I looking at myself right now?"

Parvati chuckled, closed the magazine and handed it to Hermione, "It's a weekly expose, entitled 'The Golden Trio: Where Are They Now?' apparently week one is all about you?"

Hermione groaned, it had been bad enough those first weeks after the war had ended, she couldn't open a newspaper without seeing her name everywhere.

"Seriously?" Hermione asked, "It's been all of two months since the final battle, I obviously haven't gone very far in that time."

"No," Parvati agreed, with a suppressed giggle, "But there are some interesting speculations about where you might be going."

Hermione looked up, extremely wary, "I don't like your tone," she said, "What do you mean, what kind of speculations?"

Parvati laughed, "It's Witch Weekly, Hermione, what speculations do you think they're going to be concerned with?" She asked, and Hermione groaned again.

Witch Weekly was infamous for it's gossipy nature – the last time Hermione had appeared in it, she was in a supposed love-triangle with Harry and Victor Krum.

"It's another love-triangle isn't it?" She asked in dismay.

Parvati laughed, and said, "Just read it. I'm not saying a word."

Hermione resigned herself for the worse, and read the three page spread. She was amazed at the photographs they had managed to obtain: there was one of her at Hogwarts, not long after the final battle, during the clean-up operation, looking absolutely exhausted, but smiling at Harry and Ron as they talked.

There was another of her, taken around the same but this time she had been snapped saying something to Draco Malfoy, which she thought was an odd picture to have in there, but she shrugged it off. There were some pictures of Hermione with Ginny, walking down Diagon Alley, and with Andromeda and Teddy in Hogsmeade.

There was also a shot of Hermione, Harry and Teddy at Platform 9 ¾ on September 1st – her hear leapt when she first saw the photo, remembering she had been wearing her engagement ring at the time. Upon closer inspection of the photograph, Hermione was relieved to see that her left hand was hidden from view by Teddy, who she was cradling in her arms – a good job really, as she and Harry really did present quite the family unit, the pair of them cooing over their Godson. But the photograph that truly astonished her was that of her and Richard at his Cocktail Bar in York, Hermione openly gaped at it.

"How on earth, did they get that?" she wondered incredulously, and slightly nervous.

After looking at the photographs, Hermione finally set into reading the article. It was a rather standard overview to begin with: it detailed her part in the war, being by Harry's side since day one, backing him since the Tri-Wizard disaster.

It went on to speculate her activities of the past year; regurgitating the rumours about the Ministry and Gringotts, and also that they had been caught by snatches – Hermione was surprised this rumour made it in there, it was one of the lesser known ones, as Voldemort and Bellatrix wanted to keep it quiet that they had had Harry Potter locked away in the cellar, only for him to escape from under their nose, with the rest of their hostages: an embarrassing moment for them, really.

The article continued about her activities after the war: though Hermione had pretty much been holed up with her parents, and believed herself to be very much out of the public eye, she was surprised about how much they had found out.

_Hermione Granger, like many after the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the fight that has been dubbed The Battle of Hogwarts, has appeared to throw herself into family life, spending an ample amount of time bonding with her Godson Teddy Lupin, the orphaned son of the late Remus and Nymphadora Lupin (nee Tonks), who were both killed during the Battle of Hogwarts._

_Speculation has been rife as to what Hermione Granger's next step would be in her career: reliable sources have disclosed that Miss Granger was offered places on numerous internships in the Ministry of Magic. However, instead of accepting any of the offered roles, Hermione Granger has returned to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to complete her education._

_Now, what we here at Witch Weekly have been dying to know is what is in store for Hermione Granger in her Love life?_

Hermione rolled her eyes, _Here it is,_ she thought, _No doubt Harry is mentioned, just like last time._Hermione continued to read,

And our sources haven't disappointed us: it seems War Heroine Hermione Granger is linked with not one, not two, but three gentleman suitors! That's right, readers! The Gryffindor Princess is caught up in what can only be described as a scandalous love-quadrangle!

Hermione's jaw dropped, and her eyes widened: This could not be happening to her, she looked up from the page, over to Parvati and Ginny who were both watching her intently. Parvati creased into laughter at Hermione's face, but Ginny looked wary – clearly Parvati hadn't filled her in.

"A quadrangle?" Hermione said in a strangled whisper, "They gone from love-triangle to a love-quadrangle!" Hermione's voiced raised slightly at the end, and Ginny laughed.

"They haven't?" she said, and Hermione nodded.

"Who?" Ginny asked.

"I haven't got that far," Hermione said, faintly, "I dread to think." She mumbled, though she had a fair idea of who the four might be.

Parvati laughed even harder, "Keep reading," she said.

Hermione looked back down at the page:

_For years, rumours have flown about Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, and while Harry Potter was famously dating Ginevra 'Ginny' Weasley (The younger sister of Ronald Weasley, one third of The Golden Trio) during his sixth year at Hogwarts, these rumours of Harry and Hermione were never truly quashed. Indeed recent events have in fact strengthened these rumours, as the pair are said to be bonding strongly over their attachment to their Godson, Teddy. Sources say Harry and Hermione were falling easily into their parental roles: a proposal looked imminent._

"Well, that one wasn't surprising" Hermione said, looking up, "Of course they've attached me to Harry, like they did before. I'm assuming the next one is Ron."

At this Parvati laughed even harder, tears were streaming form her eyes, and this worried Hermione, slightly, as she returned to the article.

_Imagine our surprise when Hermione Granger, only three days after Harry Potter's Birthday, was snapped in a trendy muggle cocktail bar, getting cosy with the owner: Richard Alden. Hermione was seen enjoying champagne and cocktails in the private section of the recently opened venue, on what was clearly a date._

Hermione was shocked: How?

"They know about Richard." She breathed, without thinking, seriously starting to worry about what else they might know. She prayed they never found out about the engagement. No, she rationalised, something that big would have been reported immediately.

She breathed deeply, and returned to the article to find out who mystery man number three was:

_Not much is known about Richard Alden, but we have managed to discover that he is considered one of the most eligible bachelors in Northern England, with an impressive inheritance. Our digging has revealed the rumour that there is an impending engagement between him and an equally affluent muggle heiress, but we have yet to confirm. _

_It's clear Hermione Granger has expensive taste when it comes to men: Harry Potter and Richard Alden are both wealthy Gentleman, but even they can't compete with the fortune of the third man in this quadrangle –_

"Oh God!" Hermione strangled out, as she began to fit the pieces into place, "Oh, no, they haven't-"

_It has recently come to light that Hermione Granger, Head Girl, and Gryffindor Princess is thought to be getting close to the Head Boy-_

"Oh God! They have!" She stated, at which Parvati quite literally started sobbing with laughter.

"What?" Ginny asked desperately, but Hermione ignored her, too horrified with the next words she was reading.

_- non other than the Slytherin Prince himself, heir to an incredible fortune, Draco Malfoy._

Hermione actually let out a strangled wail, sounding a little like a wounded animal, and received a few strange looks in response.

_A new perk to the Head Boy and Girl status is the use of the Head's Tower. This, along with the introduction of a Prefect Dormitory, was introduced to free up beds in the House Dormitories, to account for the higher number of students enrolling in the school this year. I think we can safely assume that this year's Head's will put the private rooms to good use, but what will Hermione Granger's other lovers think of her supposed escapades? And who will she chose as the love of her life? Only time will tell, but you can be sure, that when we at Witch Weekly find out, you will be the first to know._

Hermione closed the magazine and passed it wordlessly to Parvati, she was horrified. She didn't know weather to laugh or cry.

"Oh Hermione," Parvati laughed, "You harlot!"

Hermione had to laugh then, she buried her head in her hands, "Oh God, today is going to be awful. It's going to be hell. I want to curl up in a ball and die."

Ginny frowned, "It can't be that bad, who were the other two?" she demanded.

Hermione looked up, "The second is Richard," she told her.

"The muggle?" Ginny asked, "The one who owns the bar?"

"That's true?" Parvati gasped, "He is actually the owner?"

Hermione nodded, "I have no idea how they found all that out, but what they wrote is pretty correct."

"And the third?" Ginny asked.

Hermione paled, as she struggled to say the words, "They believe I have grown quite close to Draco Malfoy since my return to Hogwarts."

Ginny was quiet for a few seconds, then readily joined in with Parvati's mirth.

"According to the article, they're going to be putting their private rooms to good use," laughed Parvati.

Hermione pushed her toast away, no longer hungry. She checked her watch, Breakfast would be over in five minutes, and she had a fee period next.

Hermione stood, "I'm going to go hide in my tower, and try to calm myself before Potions." She told the other two, who were still crying in their mirth. Before turning and almost running from the hall.

* * *

**_A/N: Well, we've managed to progress a week. I know I keep saying I'll move it along quicker, but these little things keep coming out. But I can safely say, the next few chapters will pick up the pace: I have planned out the next four chapters, Hallowe'en will be part of them, so we're moving into the clichés. lol_**

**_The good thing about no internet for 15 hours is that I pretty much wrote the entire next chapter :) I'll edit and put it up within 24 hours._**

**_Thanks again for reading _**

**_xBx_**


	13. Chapter 13:1Step Back but 2Steps Forward

**_A/N: I'm on time with an update for once! Thank you, once again, for my fabulous reviews. I really am overwhelmed at such a positive response. You really are making this writing journey such an amazing time for me, and I can't thank you enough._  
**

**_We actually make some good progress in this chapter, the story is moving forward, but I'm not going to spoil it for you._**

**_So now, I'll let you read the aftermath of that scandalous article..._**

**_xBx_**

* * *

**~ Chapter 13: One Step Back, but Two Steps Forward ~**

At the Slytherin table, Pansy Parkinson once again interrupted Draco's peaceful breakfast. However, this time it wasn't in her irritating whine that she greeted him, but in an angry snarl.

"Explain!" She demanded, standing over his shoulder and glaring down at him.

Draco looked up from his breakfast, eyebrows raised. "Would you like to expand? What exactly are you wanting me to explain to you?" He asked, dryly.

Pansy narrowed her eyes, and looked close to breathing fire, "The real reason you broke up with me." She seethed.

"Ah," Draco gave a nod, putting down his cutlery and clasping his hands together.

"Lets see: you were clingy, possessive, you did not respect my personal space and that seriously pissed me off. You don't get subtle hints, and you ignore plain requests and demands: that also pisses me off, by the way. And your voice; I got sick and tired of listening to your constant whine. For future reference, you are much more tolerable when your voice sounds like it is now. You might want to try and find a happy medium though, as most people do not appreciate being snarled at." Draco told her.

Pansy started breathing loudly, her nostrils flaring.

"I can see from your reaction, that wasn't the answer you were hoping to hear." Draco commented lightly, returning to his breakfast.

"Maybe you can try the truth, this time, Draco." She breathed, her voice shaking with rage.

Draco was starting to lose his cool with the insufferable female. "Parkinson, those were the facts: just because you don't like what you hear, doesn't mean that what you hear isn't the truth." He told her.

In response, Pansy slammed down a glossy magazine on the table in front of him.

"Explain." She snarled at him, again.

Draco looked down, and saw Hermione Granger's face looking up at him from the cover of the latest Witch Weekly. Draco was completely lost now.

"Why are you giving me this?" He demanded.

"Read it." Pansy told him. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Why would I want to read an article about Granger?" he asked.

"Just do it!" Pansy told him, opening the magazine to the spread about Hermione, and directing him to the final section, "Just read that bit. And then explain."

Draco grumbled, but bent to read as it was the only way he was ever going to get rid of the nagging female.

Draco scoffed at the presumption of a love-quadrangle: this was Granger they were talking about! Sure, a love-quadrangle would be believable if someone like Pansy was at the centre of it, but Granger? This magazine was trash; he was surprised how many witches believed what was written in it. He rolled his eyes at the mention of Harry Potter – of course she was linked with Potter, when had she not been?

Draco quirked his eyebrows at the mention of Richard Alden: _Interesting,_ he thought, _Is this the mystery muggle who gave Granger that ostentatious engagement ring, who she's desperately trying to keep secret?_ He wondered.

But then he read the last name involved in this supposed quadrangle, and his intrigue disappeared swiftly, replaced by horror and rage.

He slammed the magazine closed and scrunched it in his fist.

"Are you bloody kidding me? This magazine is unreliable trash: I'm surprised you believe half the stuff that's written, Parkinson. But believing this? Even the Quibbler wouldn't print something that ridiculous." Draco ranted, before pushing back from the table and storming from the hall: Thank Merlin he had a free period, he seriously needed to calm down.

###

Hermione was sat on the couch, staring into the fire. The horrified look had yet to leave her face when she heard the painting slam – she guessed Draco had seen the little exposé. She closed her eyes, and waited for his wrath.

As soon as Draco spotted her, sitting with her eyes closed, he stormed over an threw the magazine he was still gripping onto the coffee table in front of her.

"What the hell is this, Granger?" He shouted.

Hermione opened her eyes, and once again found herself staring at the front cover of Witch Weekly.

"That would be the latest exposé: 'The Golden Trio: Where Are They Now?' Apparently, week one is all about me." She said, dryly.

"You think this is funny?" Draco demanded, "What the hell were you thinking?"

Hermione looked up at him in shock, "Are you Kidding?" she demanded back.

"You really think I'm responsible for this? You think that after going out of my way to avoid all the stares and mutterings; after spending all my fee time practically hiding out in here, I'm going to go and talk to a magazine? 'Witch Weekly' no less, which I despise!" She shouted, losing her patience quickly.

"Well how else would they come up with this crap?" He yelled at her.

Hermione gave him a scathing look, "They're journalists, Malfoy. It's part of their job description. And my history with Harry and Ron isn't exactly a secret is it? Everyone knows what we got up to at school, and plenty seem to have a good idea of some of what happened last year, despite how we've never confirmed anything. It's not exactly difficult to surmise my actions the past couple of months from the photographs they've managed to get of me."

Draco sighed with frustration and threw himself into a chair.

"I understand you're pissed off at your mention in the piece." Hermione told him, slowly calming down, "And I'm not exactly happy about the article either. But I suppose I should have expected it." She sighed.

Draco looked at her incredulously, "Are you kidding? How could expect something as ridiculous as that?"

Hermione shrugged, "It's a women's gossip magazine." She stated, "It specialises in ridiculously scandalous love affairs. And what could be more scandalous than pairing you and I?" She asked him in a matter-of-fact tone, before shaking her head and continuing with a sigh, looking back into the fire.

"Linking me with Harry was a given: they never get tired of that one. And if you think about it, even pairing the two of us isn't much of a stretch for them: It will be common knowledge about us being Heads, I mean neither of us are under the radar are we? Both coming together from opposite sides of the war, you can't get more scandalous than that. Then there are our current living arrangements, which aren't a secret: this new set up will have had to have been approved by the Board of Governors, it will have been known for months. No one knows what goes on in here, because no one else is allowed in here. Add to that the fact that our dynamic has changed this year: we don't fight in the hallways anymore; we're actually quite civil. Mix that with a severely over-active imagination and you have the biggest love-scandal of the century. Of course they're going to print it, regardless of whether it's true or not, it will be a big seller."

Hermione put her head in her hands, "I can live with gossip about that. But what's worried me is how they know about Richard, and what else they know." She muttered quietly. The last thing she needed was a story of an arranged muggle marriage hitting the press.

###

The rest of Hermione's week was a nightmare, thanks to the Witch Weekly article: the whispers and stares had increased tenfold, even some of her teachers were looking at her curiously, especially in those classes that she had with Draco. Professor Vector gave the pair curious looks during their next Arithmancy class, as they purposefully chose seats at opposite sides of the classroom, wearing matching scowls.

Potions had been unbearable; it was their first class after the article had circulated at breakfast. Hermione had arrived at the classroom first; not wanting to arrive together and fuel the rumours, Draco had followed five minutes behind. Hermione wasn't particularly happy, buy Draco looked furious still, when he entered the room and sat as far away from Hermione as possible, but taking the time to shoot her an infuriated glare as he passed.

Slughorn chuckled at the sight, "Oh dear, lover's tiff already?" He joked, causing some of the class to giggle and Hermione to groan in frustration.

The gossip didn't die down over night, and by the time the four Heads had their meeting with McGonagall, both Hermione and Draco had had enough. Unfortunately, they were the last two into the office: Luna and Zacharias had taken the same seats as in their previous meeting, leaving the middle two for Hermione and Draco.

The two heads sat down without looking at each other, turning slightly away from the other, arms folded across their chests.

McGonagall looked faintly amused at something, but mercifully kept quiet. The same couldn't be said for Albus, who smiled down from his portrait.

"I'm glad you could make it," Albus said genially, inspecting his fingernails with feigned nonchalance, "We began to think you were too busy putting your tower to good use."

Hermione made a noise somewhere between a humourless laugh and a strangled cry of frustration, through lightly sealed lips.

McGonagall raised her eyebrows, "Are you alright, Miss Granger."

"Mmm hmm" Hermione through closed lips and a tight smile, not trusting herself to speak.

"I'm surprised Witch Weekly printed such a thing about the two of you," Luna said suddenly, in her dreamy voice, continuing in a heartbeat. "Usually they are the last to report on things, but this time they are incredibly early. They must have a seer working for them, because nothing significant is going to happen until Christmas." She said matter-of –factly.

Hermione turned to face Luna, utter disbelief plastered across her features. She sputtered incoherently for a few seconds, making strange high-pitched noises. Before taking quick, shallow, breaths to try and calm herself, and turning back to face the headmistresses, who looked even more amused than before.

Draco was glaring at Smith, who was visibly chuckling quietly to himself. The portraits of Albus and Severus were also far too amused at the situation.

Hemrione closed her eyes to calm herself, as McGonagall spoke.

"Well, let's get this underway quickly, before Miss Granger has an aneurysm. I believe your prefects have come up with an idea you wish to present to me?" She prompted.

Hermione was still breathing strongly, her nostrils flaring and mouth clenched shut. Draco was glaring at Smith, in no mood to talk, and Zacharias was still laughing quietly, incapable of speaking with any coherence.

McGonagall rolled her eyes and turned to Luna, "Miss Lovegood, indulge me if you please. What would the prefects like to organise?"

Luna told her what had been discussed in a rather strait-forward way - well, as strait-forward as Luna can be; McGonagall set a few ground rules before consenting to the proposal, and then dismissed the students with the go-ahead to start preparations at the next prefect meeting.

This next prefect meeting was a fresh source of hell for Hermione and Draco. The weekend had done nothing to quell the gossip, and now they were in a room full of the worst gossips in the entire establishment who, because of their prefect status, felt themselves equal to the task of questioning the two Heads about their supposed secret love affair.

"I swear to the Gods, one more question, and I will hex the lot of you!" Draco shouted, finally losing his cool, "Now, McGonagall has given us permission to host this damn ball, and we have a month to get planning, so I suggest you start earning those badges you're all wearing and get to work!" He ordered them.

"Yes, we need to get moving." Hermione seconded, "We need to get the announcements up on the all the notice boards: I want two of you to work on those, make sure they get to one of us-" she indicated to Draco, Luna, Zacharias and Herself, "By Friday, so we can get them up before Monday. People will need time to sort out costumes. We need to plan the catering, we need to discuss the set up, we need to design the decorations, think about a band. We have a lot to do in the next few weeks."

Hermione spoke in her infamous no-nonsense voice, and no one dared to argue with her. Immediately the conversation turned.

"Do you think we could get the Weird Sisters to play again?" A Hufflepuff asked.

Hermione shrugged, "I can speak to Slughorn, I know he knows one of the members, see if he can pull some strings." She said, starting to calm a little now that everyone seemed to focus on the task in hand, and not on ridiculous gossip.

At six-thirty, Hermione called a stop to the meeting. "We've made good progress, guys. But if we stay any longer you'll miss dinner. We still have a lot to do, so I suggest we meet again Thursday evening: same place, but we'll change the time to six. That will give us three hours to get a lot done. I'll speak to Slughorn before then and I'll have an answer about the Weird Sisters." Hermione said, before the prefects filed out. Luna and Zacharias filed out immediately after, but Hermione stayed behind, messing with her bag, and tidying up the parchments at an easy pace.

"You going to dinner?" Draco asked politely, they had hardly spoke since the article: it seemed to have pushed their relationship back several paces, but they were slowly making their way back to 'civil acquaintance' status once again.

Hermione looked up, "No way." She said with a small laugh, "I will be sneaking down to the kitchens in about an hour, when the coast is clear. The next person I hear mention that stupid article, I am going to hex them so severely, they will be living in St Mungos for next one hundred years." She stated.

Draco looked at her a moment, and then laughed, "You're actually serious aren't you?" He asked her.

"Deadly." She assured him, before shaking her head "I thought they'd be over it by now." She admitted, picking up her bag and the stack of parchments from the meeting, and heading to the door.

Draco sighed, holding the door open to let her walk through, "Yeah, I thought they would be too. But apparently we were optimistic." He said, falling naturally in step with Hermione.

"Are you not going to the hall?" she asked, as he followed the path to their tower.

"Nah, I'm going to take up your plan. I've had all I can take of the Slytherins' questioning looks, and Blaise's constant piss-taking. " He admitted with a scowl.

The pair spent an hour in their tower in relative silence, both sat at the large study table, engrossed in their homework, before Draco sat back with a sigh.

Throwing down his quill, he checked his watch; "I'm going to chance it to the kitchens. I'm starving." He said.

Hermione looked up, "Give me ten minutes: let me finish this and I'll come with you." She said, "It's bad enough we're making the elves do extra work, without us going separately and making them do it twice."

Draco rolled his eyes, _Granger and her bloody elf rights_ he thought. "Stay where you are, Granger." He sighed. "I know what your like when you get studying: ten minutes ends up being half an hour, and I'm too hungry for that shit. I'll bring back enough for the both of us."

Without waiting for a response he disappeared out of the tower, returning thirty minutes later with a large basket and a flagon of pumpkin juice.

Hermione was sat on the couch, head in a book, but looked up when Draco entered.

"That smells amazing," she said putting the book down, "I am so hungry."

"I'm surprised you're not still slaving away at your home work." Draco commented putting down his burden and summoning a pair of goblets and a couple of plates from their cupboards.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, but gave a small smile, as she slid from the couch onto the rug. "I finished, see it didn't take me half an hour." She said, pulling the cloth from the basket to inspect its contents, a little bit of everything you would expect to find at a gourmet picnic, there was even a slice of chocolate cake for desert: Hermione was impressed.

Draco smirked as he sat down on the rug, in front of the coffee table, "Yeah? When did you put down your quill?" He challenged.

"About five minutes ago." She admitted reluctantly, and Draco laughed.

"Fine, so I was a little longer than ten minutes, whatever." She began to help herself to some chicken from the basket.

The pair ate in silence, and when they had had their fill of the food, they each leaned back against the piece of furniture behind them.

"You seriously think Slughorn can get the Weird Sisters here?" Draco asked out of nowhere, taking a sip from his goblet.

Hermione shrugged, "Possibly, I'm pretty sure one of them turned up to that Christmas Party he had the other year. If not, he'll be able to get someone, I'm sure. Do you have any ideas for a costume yet?" She asked him.

Draco groaned, "Crap, I forgot about that. No, I haven't a clue."

Hermione laughed and Draco frowned, "I suppose you've planned everything already?" he accused, slightly begrudging her obsession with eager preparation.

Hermione shrugged again, "I have a costume all sorted, only because I wore it last summer to one of my Mother's parties. It was the day after I got home from Hogwarts, she had purposefully postponed her Birthday party so I could be there." She explained with a roll of her eyes at her mother's enthusiasm for fancy dress.

"Who were dressed up as?" He asked, intrigued.

"It was a Kings and Queens themed party, so I went as Ann Boleyn. She's always been my favourite out of Henry VIII's wives. I figured I ccan re-use the costume for Hallowe'en, I do find her quite an inspiration, after all."

Draco looked at her oddly, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't she get beheaded for adultery?"

Hermione frowned, "Yes, as well as witchcraft and incest." She told him.

"And you find that inspirational? I tell you, Granger, I'm starting to worry about your sanity." Draco said, shaking his head.

Hermione laughed, "Her early years, and her fight to become Queen, is what I find inspiring. She had an incredible amount of determination, and charm, and is a prime example of what happens to a man who scorns a strong woman." She said.

"Admittedly, it all went a bit wrong for her in then end. But before her downfall, she was quite an incredible woman." Hermione defended.

###

The next morning at breakfast, Hermione finally received an answer from Harry, and judging from the thickness of the envelope, he had provided a good amount of detail about Teddy. Hermione happily indulged herself over breakfast, completely engrossing herself in the letter, ignoring the mutters and looks that had become routine, and occasionally looking up to pass along snippets to Ginny.

"Harry and Ron will be coming to Hogsmeade to meet us on the Saturday," Hermione said to Ginny with a grin, "Harry has already cleared it with Andromeda to have Teddy for day," she added with excitement.

Ginny rolled her eyes at Hermione's enthusiasm, but smiled all the same. "I didn't know we had the dates yet." She commented.

"I have a list of them all, the first one is October 12th. The notice will be going up in the common rooms next week." Hermione told her, turning back to her letter as Ginny turned to talk to Parvati.

Hermione smiled as Harry told her about Teddy's progress, admittedly at four months old, Hermione wasn't exactly missing much, but she was grateful for Harry telling her about his every hair colour, his every gurgle: Harry was safe from a howler, this time. Though Hermione seriously reconsidered this reprieve, when she got to the postscript added at the end:

_I read an interesting article in Witch Weekly this evening (and before you ask, no I didn't buy it myself! I was over at the Weasley's and Molly had left it on the table.) Apparently you've been cheating on me with a muggle and Malfoy. How could you? All I wanted was to create a stable family for Teddy, I thought you wanted that too? I have to say, I'm disappointed in you Hermione, I thought you were a better person than that._

Hermione scowled at the paper, she knew Harry would have found the article ridiculous, and no doubt he had laughed himself silly as he was writing this part of his letter.

"You okay Hermione?" Parvati asked, taking in her change of mood.

Hermione looked up, "I'm going to kill Potter when I see him." She declared to the girls, who looked taken aback.

"Jeez, what did he say?" Ginny asked, "I don't think I've ever heard you refer to him with surname only."

Neville, who was sitting next to Hermione, discreetly peered over her shoulder to scan the page, then looked across at the other two girls.

"It's the article again." He told them, "Apparently Harry is a little upset about Hermione cheating on him with Malfoy and a muggle." Neville said with mock seriousness.

"Do you mind?" Hermione said, pulling the letter her and looking at Neville with a shocked laugh at his nerve. Neville shrugged and turned back to his breakfast, while Ginny and Parvati were engulfed in hysterics.

###

Eventually the scandal of the Witch Weekly article simmered down, and Hermione and Draco could go back to a relatively peaceful existence. They resumed their original seats in Arithmancy: as the weeks progressed, the classes were steadily becoming more difficult, and Hermione appreciated the sporadic help from the second-brightest student in the school. They had also started working together every now and then in Potions if the occasion called for it: Hermione and Draco were pretty much evenly matched in their abilities and as a result, they were the only ones in the class who the other could work with without becoming infuriated at apparent incompetence.

Prefect meetings were becoming exhausting as the weeks went by: the closer they got to Hallowe'en, the more they seemed to have to do. The last meeting before the first Hogsmeade weekend, Hermione was starting to feel the stress of planning a large party – she had no idea how her mother did it on a regular basis.

"Alright," she said as the clock in the room chimed eight times. "I think we can call it a night, there's nothing more to discuss this evening. Slughorn has managed to pull some strings, and we have a live band. It's not the Weird Sisters, they were unavailable, but apparently they're just as good, with a similar sound, so they should go down well. I think he said they're called The flaming Hippogriffs?"

"I've heard of them!" A Gryffindor called out, "They're amazing! Only just got together like a year ago! This is going to be so cool!" She gushed, getting a little too excited.

"Okay," Hermione said, looking a little taken aback at the enthusiasm, "Anyway, you've all got your things to do this weekend, you should know your shifts for supervising the Hogsmeade trip. Make sure you're at you appointed location for the duration of you shift. I know it can be tedious, but it's only an hour for you guys and the rest of day is yours. Rachel," Hermione said to the Ravenclaw, "You have your list of things we need for the decorations, get what you can on Saturday, order the rest, make sure you get a receipt, I need to document every sickle and knut we spend."

The Ravenclaw nodded, adding, "I've also got the list of things you want ordering from Honeydukes. Don't worry Hermione, we have it covered."

Hermione smiled, "And I'll sort out a deal at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, for the other things I want to get."

"Is that open already?" A Hufflepuff asked excitedly.

"It opens Saturday." Hermione told him, "I think that's everything. You can go."

As the prefects filed out, Draco looked at Hermione with a frown, "You're stressing over this a bit too much," her told her, "And you look exhausted."

Hermione laughed, "Thanks. But exhaustion is good, maybe I'll sleep tonight."

"You're not sleeping?" he asked, a note of genuine concern in his voice, which automatically elicited Hermione to answer him truthfully.

She shrugged, "Nightmares," she told him. "Not major ones, just my usual mundane ones. I don't wake screaming, but I don't rest much either." She said, before heading out of the door and back to the tower with out a backwards glance.

The lessons were slowly picking up their pace, transfiguration and charms were getting more difficult, looking into seriously complex magic. Defence had been somewhat enjoyable so far; they had been covering the most popular jinxes and curses, while continuing to hone their non-verbal skills. But Friday's lesson was Hermione's worst class she had ever had.

"Today's lesson is going to be discussion based, rather than practical: you'll understand why in a moment." Professor Fidelis announced at the start of the class. "So you can put your wands away."

The glass grumbled quietly as they followed the instructions. Hermione placed her wand in her robe pocket: most of the class returned their wand to their bag, but Hermione didn't feel completely safe, even in the school, if her wand was not on her, somewhere.

"Now, I know you have broached this subject, when you had Alastor Moody as you teacher-"

Hermione's stomach knotted, she had a bad feeling about where this lesson was going.

"I want to talk today about the Unforgivable Curses."

Yep, Hermione thought, this is not going to end well.

"I'm sure you've all come in contact with at least one of the curses this past year. But I wonder, how much you really know about them? There is nothing worse than being in a duel, and being completely unprepared for what is about to hit you. If you are prepared, you can react more efficiently." Fidelis told them.

"I'm going to go ahead and assume that you remember what the three unforgivables are?" The class nodded their confirmation, and Professor Fidelis continued.

"We'll start with Avada Kedavra, as there isn't much to really discuss. You all know what the spell is designed to do."

He went quiet waiting for a student to answer; quickly enough a Ravenclaw spoke up:

"To kill." He said quietly.

"Exactly. There is no counter curse, no way to repel it. Your only hope is to dodge it and dodge it quick. Out of the three, this one is the hardest one to cast: there are not many capable of it."

"I disagree." Hermione spoke up, wanting to draw out the conversation. Fidelis had looked ready to move onto the next curse, and Hermione was dreading a discussion of the Cruciatus curse, and was willing to attempt to avoid it at all costs.

"You disagree?" Fidelis repeated, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes." Hermione confirmed with confidence. "I believe we are all capable of killing. It's whether or not we will allow ourselves to do it, that's the question."

Fidelis considered her argument thoughtfully, and pressed the idea further: "Do you believe you could allow yourself to carry it out?"

Hermione thought, "Yes." She answered slowly, and truthfully. "There was one person I would have rather liked to kill. But someone got there before me." She admitted, "I would have been fully capable of throwing that curse with successful results. But I don't think I would have used it in the end."

Fidelis started to smile, thinking he had won the argument, but Hermione continued and wiped the smile away with her next statement.

"Avada Kedavra would have been too quick and painless. I wanted that bitch to feel pain, get some taste of her own medicine. I'd have torn her to shreds, tossed my wand away and ripped her limb from limb with my bare hands. And part of me actually still resents that person that took my revenge away from me."

Hermione hadn't planned on saying any of this, and the venom in her words even took her by surprise, but as soon as she had started talking, the words just seemed to tumble out of her mouth.

A lot of the class were looking warily at her, and even Fidelis, who was usually good at keeping a calm mask in place, looked rather taken aback. But one person was determinedly not looking at her; Draco had refused to turn around.

He and Hermione were beginning to get to know each other fairly well – in this past month they had learned to get along rather peacefully and while they weren't great friends, they certainly weren't enemies anymore. He knew enough about her to know, that while she wouldn't hesitate to hex anyone who crosses her, it would take something highly extreme to elicit such a strong reaction and need for revenge. And Draco had a pretty shrewd idea who the person Hermione had been talking about was.

"Moving onto the imperius curse, I think." Fidelis said, not wanting to dwell on, nor encourage, the murderous thoughts.

Hermione let out a breath she didn't even realise she was holding, relieved at the teacher's choice, and hoping this discussion could be dragged out for a good while.

"This is perhaps the most commonly used – or rather, it is the one which people more easily admit to using. Has anyone been under an imperius curse?" He asked.

It was Neville who answered, "All of us, I reckon. Or pretty close to. Moody put us under it when he was here, trying to teach us to fight it."

There was a general nod of assent, "So, you are all aware of the sensations it produces in it's victim?" Fidelis prompted.

A small discussion naturally started about the blank state of mind, and inner calmness that most often accompanied the Imperius. Professor Fidelis then steered the conversation toward various methods of resisting, and the various techniques students employed, finding who had successfully thrown off the curse and what was their motivation for fighting against it so hard. The discussion managed to go for a full half an hour, which took them a little past the halfway point of their double period.

Fidelis then touched a little on the side effects of prolonged exposure to the curse, before moving onto the final unforgivable: the Cruciatus curse.

Hermione's heartbeat began to race and she tried to steady its pace by taking a deep breath, as discreetly as possible. No one knew the extent of her acquaintance with this particular curse, except for those who had bore witness to it, and the last thing she wanted was for anyone to find out and start asking questions. She desperately tried to maintain her calm, and refused to enter into the discussion that was tentatively unfolding around her.

Again, a majority of students had come into contact with the Crucio curse; Hermione knew the Carrows had used it as favourite form of punishment last year. As a few of the students began to openly discuss their experiences – describing the pain they felt, and it's varying intensities, as well as talking about the emotional torture of simply witnessing – Hermione tried her hardest to not to think. But despite staring straight ahead, focusing her attention on her breathing while attempting to block out the discussion surrounding her, she would catch the odd sentence and her mind would instantly transport her back to that night in Malfoy Manor.

Hermione wasn't the only one suffering in silence: at the front Draco was sat with his head in his heads trying to block out the conversation going on behind him. He was well informed when it came to the Cruciatus curse: he had endured it countless of times, he had been forced to use it himself on the rare occasion and he'd been made to stand and watch the most brutal display of it anyone could ever imagine. To this day he still had nightmares of that night: Hermione Granger's screams still haunted him. The cruciatus curse was considered his Aunt's speciality, she was especially cruel when it came to the force behind her Crucio; but on that occasion he had never seen his Aunt in such a rage, she reached a whole new level of intent he had never seen in her before, and he truly had no idea how Hermione had endured the torture for so long, and survived to tell the tale.

Neither Hermione nor Draco noticed when Professor Fidelis moved the conversation onto the side effects of the curse, both too focused on blocking out the discussion.

Hermione did notice when Fidelis wrote their homework instructions on the board, and going into autopilot she copied down the instructions:

_Two rolls of parchment detailing the side effects of prolonged exposure to the Unforgivable Curses._

When the bell rang, Hermione wasn't even sure if they had been dismissed or not, but she grabbed her bag, picked up her books without putting them away and said a quick goodbye to Ginny.

"I have some things to do, I'll catch you later." She said quickly, before leaving the room and bolting to her tower.

Hermione was having trouble controlling her thoughts: She hadn't consciously thought of her time at Malfoy Manor, not since it had happened. The only times she ever remembered it was when she was reliving it in her nightmares, but thankfully this had only happened a handful of times.

Hermione determined to distract herself with homework: sitting at the large table in the tower, with all her books piled in front of her, she went methodically and religiously through every assignment she had yet to do, from this weeks lessons. When the only assignment left to do was the recent one from defence, she ignored the book and pulled a pile of parchments, from this week's prefect meetings, towards her and began organising and re-writing, then filing them away in the box that sat in the middle of the table.

As Hermione steadily worked, she was so absorbed in what she was doing that she hadn't noticed Draco's entrance.

Draco had returned to the tower after an early dinner; he mumbled a casual greeting to her, but Hermione was too engrossed in her study to hear him. He sat himself in front of the fire where he worked half-heartedly on a couple of assignments before giving up entirely around 8pm. Draco sat back, picking up a novel that had been left on the coffee table, intending to distract himself with it, but he ended up watching Hermione progress studiously through her work.

He noticed her face held a blank look, as if she were simply going through the motions without really thinking, and he frowned; this wasn't like her, she was usually overly enthusiastic when it came to study. After a couple of hours, her to-do pile dwindled, leaving one book: she looked at it momentarily, then pulled the prefect meeting notes towards and set to work on them. When that was completed, Draco watched her stare at the remaining book once again, and her blank expression turned wary.

"Are you okay, Granger?" He asked, speaking for the first time all evening.

Hermione jumped, and looked toward the voice. "When did you get back?" she asked, slightly shocked.

Draco chuckled, "About four hours ago. It's about ten-thirty," he told her, "You were too engrossed in studying. Have you eaten?" He asked her, suddenly remembering that he hadn't seen her at dinner.

Hermione shook he head, "I wasn't hungry, I needed to work." She mumbled, "Today's defence, it…I didn't…I don't like to…I don't talk about the Cruciatus curse." Hermione said disjointedly, having no idea what she was trying to say.

Hermione shook herself, "I'm tired. I'm going to shower and go to bed." She said abruptly, and walked briskly from the room.

Draco sat in silence. He had clearly seen the torment in her eyes, and he had never known her struggle to string a sentence together. Draco knew she was trying to hold it together and not think about the night she was tortured in his home and his stomach writhed with guilt. He couldn't help but feel partly responsible for what had happened – true, he hadn't been the one to actually curse her, but he hadn't done anything to stop it, which made him just as bad as his Aunt Bellatrix in his eyes, and he hated himself for it.

He could hear Hermione moving around upstairs, he heard the shower running for about twenty minutes, and when it finally shut off, he gave her an extra half hour, before heading upstairs himself.

Hermione was exhausted; it had been a long day, and writing almost non-stop for nearly six hours had tired her out more than she had realised at the time. After standing in the shower and letting the hot water relax her muscles, she finally shut the water off before she ended up falling asleep standing up. She cleaned her teeth and magicked her hair into a French braid, before going into her room and slipping into some shorts and an oversized t-shirt. As she climbed into bed she heard the shower set off again, she formed a vague thought of locking her door, but before she could do anything about it her eyelids closed and sleep overcame her.

It wasn't long before the nightmare started, the same way it always did: she was standing in the forest with Harry and Ron, surrounded by snatches, they tried to run but they were caught and bound, before being dragged off.

She struggled, knowing where they were taking her, and what was awaiting her: she was vaguely aware it was only a dream, but she couldn't do anything to stop it from playing out. The snatchers dragged her through a particular dense piece of shrubbery and suddenly she was in a dark reception room, staring into the cold eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange. She was thrown to the ground as she began to protest louder. Her protests turned to a scream as Bellatrix held her under the first wave of the many Crucios about to come her way…

As Draco stepped out of the shower, he stopped and listened: He could hear a mumbling coming from the closed door that led into Hermione's room. He frowned, either she was talking to herself or apparently she spoke in her sleep. He shook his head, ignoring the quiet protests coming from the other room, and pulled on the long pants he usually slept in. Tossing his towel aside, he went to the sink and began cleaning his teeth. Just as he was replacing his toothbrush to its holder, he heard it: the gut-wrenching scream that had tortured him in his sleep for months.

Without thinking, he crashed through the closed door into Hermione's room: Hermione had obviously been tossing around for some time, as the covers were severely tangled around her. She was sprawled facing the door through which Draco had just burst, her left arm was flung behind her, the 'mudblood' scar clearly on display, and her entire body seemed to be contorted in pain.

"Granger!" Draco called out, as he entered the room, trying to shout over her screams, slightly panicked at the sight before him, which emulated his memories to a degreee. "Granger!"

Hermione continued to writhe and cry out, so Draco rushed to the bed without thinking, knelt down, placed both hands on her shoulders and roughly shook her, trying to bring her back into consciousness.

"Hermione!" He called out again desperately, calling her by her first name for the first time, just wanting the screaming to stop.

Hermione felt strong hands gripping her shoulders…this wasn't usually part of her dream. She heard a male voice calling her name; this was new too.

"Hermione!"

Hermione's eyes snapped open, and pain-filled brown met unsettled grey. Hermione's breathing hitched as fear quickly replaced the pain. In a heartbeat she reached under her pillow and drew her wand on Draco.

Draco stumbled back and held up his hands in surrender, "Granger, relax. I'm not armed. You were dreaming, screaming, I was just trying to wake you." He explained in a rush.

Hermione experienced a quick succession of emotions: Confusion as she processed the situation, a brief return of the fear and pain as she thought back on the nightmare, finally settling on embarrassment and unease that Draco Malfoy had caught her in her most vulnerable moment.

She dropped her wand on her bed, pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. Dropping her hear, and avoiding Draco's gaze.

Draco frowned, "What for? Dreaming?"

"I'm sorry I disturbed you. I didn't wake you did I?" She mumbled: that would just be mortifying.

"No, I was still awake." He said gently, She was still avoiding his gaze, but he could still see her face and she looked like she was struggling to hold back tears.

"Are you okay?" He asked, and regretted it instantly: what a stupid thing to ask, of course she wasn't okay - any idiot could see that.

Hermione didn't know what to say: no, she wasn't okay, but she couldn't admit that. She was terrified to go back to sleep, she desperately needed comfort, but she couldn't say that to Draco Malfoy – the last thing she needed was for him to know just how vulnerable she really was. The last time she had had this nightmare, she had been at Grimmauld Place and Harry had been the one to wake her. Harry had sat up with her for most of the night, arms around her, giving the comfort and security she needed then and that she desperately needed now. But she wasn't about to say, or ask, for any of it from Draco Malfoy.

She gave a half-hearted shrug of her shoulders, and Draco spoke again.

"What were you dreaming about?" He asked quietly, though he suspected he knew exactly what she had been dreaming about.

Hermione looked up: Draco was back on his feet standing by the doorway into the bathroom, still looking concerned.

"The worst night of my life." Hermione answered softly: her emotions were too overwhelmed from the nightmare for her to attempt to hide her feelings. At this admission Draco felt a renewed sense of guilt: anger and pain flashed momentarily across his eyes.

The pair looked at each other for a moment, before Hermione looked away again, slightly uncomfortable and confused at the array of emotions the blonde seemed to be experiencing.

"I'm not going to be able to sleep for a while." She said hastily, getting out of her bed and walking towards her sitting room, starting to feel uncomfortable remaining so vulnerable in Draco's presence.

"I'm going to go make some tea." She paused at the doors and looked over her shoulder, Draco hadn't moved an inch. "I'll make a pot up, if you want some." She said, slightly hesitantly, adding quietly: "Thank you, for waking me," before turning and heading down the stairs.

Draco remained staring at her bed for the next ten minutes, her words echoing in his mind: _The worst night of my life_. How could he respond to that? He had been there that night, watching everything that passed and doing nothing to stop it. No wonder she had nearly hexed him when he woke her – he was probably the last person she wanted to be around right now. But she had looked so vulnerable, and even scared, he thought. He had had the sudden urge to comfort her; when he had asked if she was okay she looked ready to burst into tears, and he had almost gone over to put his arms around her. He had luckily thought twice about that, if he had attempted that, no doubt he would have been hexed into next month.

Eventually her final words, before she had practically run out of the room, dawned on him: _I'll make a pot, if you want some_. Stubborn as ever, Granger wouldn't admit that she needed the company, but that sentence told Draco what she was unwilling to admit - that she didn't want to be alone after reliving the worst night of her life. He turned and silently followed in Hermione's footsteps.

When he reached the foot of the stairs, he saw Hermione already sat on one of couches, knees up to her chest, two hands wrapped around a steaming mug. As promised, the large teapot sat on its tray of condiments in the centre of the coffee table. Only embers remained of the fire that had been burning in the evening, and there was a chill creeping into the room. Draco wordlessly summoned the thick blanket that was laid across the foot of his bed; catching it as it came from his staircase he walked over to Hermione and draped it wordlessly around her shoulders.

Hermione had heard him follow her down into the common room, and heard his approach, so she didn't jump a mile at the action, though she was slightly surprised at the thoughtfulness. She turned to look up at him with a small smile.

"Thank you. I didn't think it would be so cold already, down here." She admitted.

Draco smiled back, and took a seat in the chair next to her, poured himself a mug of tea, and leaned back.

"You were dreaming about the night at the Manor, weren't you?" he said quietly.

Hermione nodded sadly, "I'm sorry," she said.

Draco laughed humourlessly, and shook his head. "You are the last person who should be apologising. I should be the one apologising, I did nothing to help you."

Hermione shook her head: "You had less control in that situation than I had. You didn't do this to me. You don't need to apologise." She told him quietly.

"But, still-" Draco began, but Hermione cut him off, with a pained look.

"Please." She whispered, "It's bad enough reliving it in my nightmares, without going over it when I'm awake."

Draco looked back at her, and nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry." He mumbled.

The two of them were silent for a while, but eventually Draco spoke again, and admitted to her what he hadn't told a soul.

"I still dream about that night as well. Quite often." He admitted, staring into the fireplace. Hermione looked up, surprised, but didn't say a word. She simply looked at him as he continued.

"Your screams have haunted me ever since. And I hate myself for not trying to stop it at the time. And I despise the fact that you are still suffering because of what my Aunt put you through, and I'm still just as powerless to help you." He admitted with feeling.

Hermione took a shaky breath, and quickly wiped the stray tears that she had been unable to stop from falling. The pair lapsed into silence once again, but it wasn't awkward – in fact it was far from it. As the hours wore on, neither of them much wanting to fall asleep in case nightmares returned, Hermione and Draco began to talk of little things of no real consequence. And as they talked, they both became aware that their dynamic had shifted: Draco had witnessed Hermione at her most vulnerable, and he hadn't scorned her, or thought her pathetic. Instead he had sat with her, talked with her, even wrapped a blanket around her – in short he had comforted her. Hermione had seen a new side of Draco, a caring side, and he had even told her about his own nightmares, admitting his own self-torment about what had happened to her – Hermione was pretty confident she was the only person in the entire universe he had told that piece of soul-revealing information to.

They were certainly no longer enemies; there was no hate there anymore. No: hate had disappeared a long time ago. They were more than just civil acquaintances; did the term 'friend' fit what they were now?

Unknown to the other, each was going through the same thought process: they tested the idea of friendship in their minds, but to both them it didn't seem to fit. Something about a friendship didn't quite feel right.

But at 3am, neither one was capable of effectually processing these thoughts much further, and they both went to bed not long after, resolving to figure it out further along the line.

* * *

**_A/N: There we have it, we're into October...Hallowe'en is just around the corner and I'm a little bit excited. _**

**_We've had a little hint of Dramione, and I can promise there is a lot more to come in the next few chapters. I will get to work on those as soon as I can, but the next couple of weeks are going to be extremely chaotic, with work and Christmas and just to throw even more stress in there, I'm moving states three days before Christmas lol So I definitely won't be able to update 3 chapters in a week, but I should get at least one more up before I leave._**

**_Thank you again to everyone who's been reading, I hope you're still enjoying the piece, let me know your views :)_**

**_xBx_**


	14. Chapter 14: Hogsmeade

**_A/N: Yay, I managed to find the time to get another chapter done - the chapter is shorter than planned, more things happened on the Hogsmeade trip than I had initially planned, so I ended up cutting the chapter in a different place to where I had originally planned._  
**

**_Thanks to everyone who has been reading, and Thank you for my reviews, you guys are great!_**

**_xBx_**

* * *

**~ Chapter 14: Hogsmeade ~**

When Hermione descended from her room the next morning, Draco was already sat in the kitchen, a mug of coffee in his hand, with another steaming mug sat on the counter in front of him. As Hermione stepped into the kitchen Draco looked up, smiled, and pushed the full mug towards her.

"Thought you might need one this morning: It's extra strong." He told her.

Hermione smiled gratefully and sat down next to Draco, "Thank you." She murmured, breathing in the aroma.

"You might want to hurry if you want to catch breakfast, it's past eight-thirty." Her told her, conversationally.

Hermione took a drink from her mug and shook her head. "Ginny should be here soon, we're going into Hogsmeade early; we'll eat there."

Draco frowned, "If you were intending to go in early, you could have taken the first shift, instead of pawning it off on me."

Hermione looked across and grinned, "But then I wouldn't have the convenient two hour slot at lunchtime. Harry and Ron are coming up," She explained, "We arranged to have lunch in the 'Broomsticks: they're meeting us at ten, but I have a few things I need to do, that I would like to get done before they distract me."

Draco rolled his eyes, "They just can't leave you alone for two minutes, can they?"

Hermione actually let out a giggle, "Actually, I was the one that initiated it, really." She admitted, "I couldn't bear the thought of not seeing Teddy until Christmas. So Harry arranged to have him for the day, and bring him up here to see me."

Draco laughed, "You've really become quite attached to the little guy, haven't you?" He said sounding slightly surprised.

Hermione looked at him incredulously, "How could anyone not be?" She asked, smiling widely, "He's the most adorable thing in the world."

Hermione and Draco continued to chat rather amicably and somewhat cheerfully, their conversation centred on Teddy. Hermione began telling Draco about the time she spent with Andromeda helping her with the re-decorating ideas and how Teddy gave his input but changing his hair colour to match the colour swatches he was holding at the time.

The two of them were too busy talking and laughing over Teddy to realise they were no longer alone in the tower. Ginny and Blaise had met each other two floors down; as they both had the same destination to reach, they had naturally fallen in line with one another, talking amicably about the one thing they had most in common: Quidditch. When they entered the tower, they both stopped at the sight before them.

"Is it me, or is that a little weird?" Ginny asked quietly to Blaise, who was mirroring her slightly bemused, yet slightly wary look.

"No, no, there's something definitely not quite right here. It's different." He assured her.

"I mean, I know we seem to be getting along pretty well now. But we never really had any contact before." Ginny said, "But Hermione and Malfoy…"

"Yeah. Not exactly indifferent acquaintances, were they?" Blaise finished. "I wonder what they got up to facilitate such a turn around?" He asked with his signature grin, implying that his ideas were less than innocent.

Ginny snorted at Blaise's implied assumption, which finally drew the attention of the other two.

"Charming, Weaselette." Draco said with an attempt at his usually smirk, but the laughter hadn't quite yet died away, so it was more of a smile. "Is that how you usually announce your presence?"

Ginny gave Draco a scathing look, but otherwise ignored the blonde, and looked over at Hermione.

"You ready?" Ginny asked.

Hermione drained the last of her mug's contents, hopped down from the stool and turned to face Ginny, and only then did Ginny fully take in her friend's appearance.

"You look like hell." Ginny said suddenly, "Are you okay?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Thanks, Gin." She said dryly, then explained: "I'm fine, just didn't get much sleep last night is all." She told her.

Ginny looked like she was trying to hide a smirk, but she was beginning to fail miserably. "Oh." She said, not trusting herself to say anything more, and Hermione heard laughter in her voice.

Hermione frowned as she saw Ginny exchange a look with Blaise, who also had laughter in his eyes: It appeared the two were sharing some sort of private joke.

"Ok, we're going to go." Hermione said authoritatively, having a feeling that she didn't want to know what this private joke was.

"I'll see you later," she said over her shoulder to Draco, and nodding to Blaise as she passed.

Ginny turned to follow Hermione, and muttered quietly to Blaise, "Get the gossip, I want to know everything." Before hurrying to catch Hermione.

Hermione and Ginny were to meet Harry and Ron at the far end of the village at 10am. The Girls were in Hogsmeade early enough to have breakfast in one of the cafés, and Hermione made a quick call into Scrivenshafts to pick up a few things she needed, knowing the boys would not want to endure her mundane errands, before heading to their meeting spot in good time.

Along the way Ginny attempted to question Hermione about what she got up to last night, trying to engage her in conversation about the turn around of her relationship with Draco. But Hermione was not forthcoming with the information, shrugging off the claims that the turn around was dramatic; Ginny persisted, but it was like trying to draw blood from a stone, and by the time they got to Scrivenshafts Ginny had completely given up.

When the boys arrived Hermione's face split into a huge smile: she hadn't realised just how much she had actually missed them both until she saw them. She threw her arms around each of them in turn, though she had some difficulty when it came to Harry, as he was holding Teddy, strapped to his front (Ron was carrying the nappy-bag, though whether this was forced or voluntary was anyone's guess).

Ginny stood there giggling at the sight before her. "My, don't you two look like quite the doting dads." She joked.

Ron scowled, but Harry was too busy taking in Hermione's appearance, as she cooed over their Godson, to pay attention.

Hermione, however, did pay attention to the comment and looked up with a grin.

"Maybe that can be Witch Weekly's next exposé: Harry was devastated that I left him for Malfoy and a muggle, that he's since sought consolation in the arms of Ron." Hermione teased.

This time Harry did hear: "I'm not amused." He told her, dryly, while Ron continued to glare.

"Well I wasn't very amused by your letter. You get what you give." Hermione told him with a smirk.

"Touché" Harry smiled, "Where first?"

"George's new premises," Hermione said, taking the bag from Ron. "I thought it would be good to go support him at his opening. Plus I want to do some business with him."

As the four made their way back down the high street, Harry deliberately allowed Ron and Ginny to walk a little ahead, so he could chat to Hermione.

"Are you alright?" He asked her quietly, "Only, you look exhausted."

Hermione looked up at him and smiled at his concern. She nodded, "I'm good. I didn't sleep much last night."

"Are your nightmares back?" Harry guessed immediately, showing concern.

Hermione smiled a little sadly. "They came back as soon as I returned: being back in the castle, there are constant reminders of that night." She told him,

"But last night's was the worst one. It was triggered by our Defence class." Hermione admitted quietly.

Harry looked at her, silently probing her to continue. Hermione checked that Ginny and Ron were a safe distance ahead.

"We were discussing the Cruciatus Curse." She said quietly, and instantly Harry understood.

"You had _that_ nightmare." He said and Hermione nodded.

"It didn't go on for too long, thankfully, because Malfoy woke me. But it went on long enough." Hermione told him – she had very few secrets from Harry, so she didn't mind telling him this detail, though she knew he probably wouldn't like it.

Harry looked a little wary, "Malfoy woke you?" He clarified.

Hermione nodded, "I think he was still in the bathroom when he heard me scream; though apparently I was rather loud, so he could have been all the way in his room. We share a bathroom suite," Hermione explained, "the bathroom runs between our rooms. He heard me scream out, I think he panicked, and automatically rushed to my aid." She told him truthfully, still keeping her voice hushed.

"I bet that's going to be fun for you. Is he using this knowledge to torture you yet?" Harry asked.

Hermione frowned at him. "That sounds like something I would expect from Ronald, not you. And besides, you don't really believe he'd do that, do you? Not now, surely? Hell, I bet you didn't even believe it as you were saying it." She challenged him.

Harry sighed, and shook his head, "No, you're right. He does seem different now. I've only spoken to him a couple of times, during his parents' trials mostly, but even then he was extremely civil – nothing like he used to be when we were all at Hogwarts together." Harry admitted, he hesitated before continuing,

"It's just, usually you have your nightmares and I'm there to get you through the night. I feel like I should have been there. And I guess I just find it weird that it's Malfoy who's waking you, instead of me. I bet he just left you alone to fend for yourself once you were awake? Didn't think you might need some company?" He asked, his protective instincts kicking in automatically.

Hermione smiled at him. "I can look after myself, you know, you don't always have to be there to protect me." She told him, for what felt like the millionth time.

"And actually, no. Malfoy stayed awake with me, for quite a few hours. We sat in our common room, drank tea, and talked." She told him, eliciting and incredulous look.

"I know, it sounds weird." Hermione said with a laugh, "But it's entirely true. He even got me a blanket, when he saw I was getting cold. I think I'm seeing a completely different side to him, maybe even the real him. He can actually be a nice guy, he's alright to be around." Hermione told him truthfully.

"Sounds like there might be some truth to that Witch Weekly article, after all." Harry said with frown and a shudder, which wiped Hermione's smile of her face.

"I swear to Merlin, Potter. You bring that article up one more time and I will hex you're your balls off." Hermione threatened, not bothering to keep her voice down this time, causing Harry to laugh, and Ginny and Ron to turn around at the sound.

"Come on you two," Ron whined, realising how far back they lagged, "Do you want to get to George's before lunch, because I do. It's already ten-thirty, we could be in there for a couple of hours, and I had an early breakfast."

Hermione and Harry rolled their eyes at each other, and smiled at their best friend's constant need for food. They upped their pace to catch up with the two red-heads in front.

As predicted, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes was teeming with gleeful students when the foursome arrived. They found George easily enough, and while Harry, Ron and Ginny indulged themselves in wandering around the store, Hermione went strait to business. She knew He and Fred had dabbled in muggle 'magic' tricks in their Diagon Alley store, and was hoping they could come to some agreement about having some sort of display at the Hallowe'en Ball.

While George was willing to assist, his enthusiasm was severely lacking compared to how he had used to be. The death of Fred had hit the entire family hard, but while the rest seemed to be moving on at a healthy pace, George was finding it near impossible – Hermione doubted he would ever fully recover.

When the four were finally leaving George's new premises, they came across Draco and Blaise, walking up the high street.

"Granger," Malfoy called as he drew near to them, "Don't ever put me on that god-forsaken shift again." He complained.

Hermione tried not to laugh, "It can't have been that bad?" She countered, the laughter creeping into her voice, despite her best efforts.

Draco scowled: "Do you have any idea how boring it is to sit in The Three Broomsticks for two hours when it's practically empty? I couldn't even numb the monotony with a Firewhiskey, because they don't start serving until eleven-thirty. By which time, my shift was over."

Hermione frowned, "That shouldn't make any difference. You can't drink while you're on duty." She scolded.

As the two of them were talking, Ginny, Ron and Blaise had taken a step back, and began their own conversation, though watching the others at the same time. Ron was a little uncomfortable, and slightly wary of the easy way in which in Blaise and Ginny seemed to fall into conversation.

"Did you manage to get anything from Malfoy?" Ginny asked, quietly.

"Not a word." Blaise admitted in disappointment, "I barely asked the first question and he threatened to hex me if I didn't shut up. and I've seen what he's capable of, I didn't want to risk it."

Ginny frowned, "Wuss. But i didn't fare any better. Hermione just kept changing the subject."

Harry remained next to Hermione, watching this new style of interaction between her and Draco carefully, but staying out of the conversation.

Draco rolled his eyes, and gave Hermione a knowing smirk. "Are you telling me you won't be indulging yourself in a glass of wine with your lunch? While you're on you shift?" He asked, emphasising his final statement.

Hermione grinned guiltily, knowing full well she couldn't deny the charge, but didn't say anything.

"Exactly." Draco said. "So next time, I'm taking the lunch shift."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Fine."

Unnoticed by them, as they talked a small group of young students had formed nearby them, undoubtedly drawn by Draco's scowl and Harry's uncomfortable look.

"Erm," Blaise called out to them, "I don't know if you're aware, but you three have an audience." His voice was far too gleeful for the current situation, letting Draco know that something was about to happen to piss him off even more.

Hermione looked over her shoulder, "Yes?" She called to the group.

The group gave her innocent looks – too innocent to be legitimate - but she saw one girl hastily hide what looked suspiciously like a copy of the old With Weekly that contained that incriminating exposé of her.

Hermione rolled her eyes, this was the final straw: she couldn't even walk down the streets of Hogsmeade, a month later, without that bloody article interfering with her day.

"Yes, I'm here for a romantic lunch date with Harry Potter, after having a secret breakfast rendezvous with Draco Malfoy. And this afternoon, I'm going to sneak back home, and meet my muggle lover for a spot of afternoon tea. Oh and while I'm gone, these two-" she indicated to Harry and Draco, "are going to whip out their wands and engage in a long over-due duel, over me. Is that what you want to hear? Is that what you're waiting to see?" she called to the group, sarcasm dripping from every word.

The group of young students shifted uncomfortably, but didn't move – probably hoping that Draco and Harry were actually going to indulge them with a duel.

"Scram!" Hermione shouted, losing patience. "And quit believing everything you read in gossip magazines!" she added, before turning back to the others.

Ginny and Blaise were in hysterics of laughter, Ron was looking amused, but wary at the same time – he had been on the receiving end of Hermione's bad temper once too often, and wasn't willing to risk her wrath too much. Harry and Draco, however, were both looking extremely uncomfortable, their eyes flicking between each other and Hermione.

"What were we talking about?" Hermione asked.

"I have no idea," Harry answered, "But did you really have to say that? I feel a little bit awkward now." He told her.

"Yeah, I'm with Potter on this one. Didn't you take that a little too far?" Draco agreed. "I mean, Potter can escape them, but we can't." He pointed out, and Hermione knew his temper was coming out to shine, any second now.

Hermione rolled her eyes, yet again, and sighed: "I've had enough of the fallout from that stupid article, that was just one push too far, and I lost it." She admitted.

"Yeah, and thanks to your little outburst we're going to have hell for the next few days. Sometimes you really are insufferable, do you know that?" Draco told her.

"And you're an ass." She retorted, "We all have our flaws, suck it up." She frowned. Harry could sense this going somewhere bad, sometime soon.

"Okay, lets wrap this up before wands are drawn." Harry said, "Hermione we should go get some lunch, Ron is probably ready to eat one of us right about now."

Hermione's frown turned into a smirk once again: a smirk so reminiscent of Malfoy's that Harry actually raised his eyebrows, clearly they had been spending too much time in each other's company.

"Lunch sounds great, Harry." Hermione said, looking at Draco. "Lunch, and a nice big glass of wine." She emphasised.

Malfoy scowled, and turned away muttering, while Hermione chuckled.

"I'm probably going to pay for that later," Hermione said, unconcernedly, as she set off toward The Three Broomsticks.

"I need to head back, and have lunch at the castle," Ginny called after her, causing Hermione to turn with a questioning look.

"Quidditch practice!" she said in exasperation, Hermione had a feeling she should have known this, and had the decency to look a little guilty.

"You've told me this before haven't you?" Hermione asked.

"Yes!" Ginny huffed.

"I'm sorry, but every time you start talking about Quidditch, my mind wanders." She admitted, as Ginny shook her head.

"I'll walk back with you, I have stuff to do before my own practice." Blaise commented.

Both Harry and Ron were clearly taken aback by this suggestion – Ron's ears had actually started to turn pink. Luckily Ginny caught the warning sign and headed off directly before her brother could blow his top, calling a quick goodbye over her shoulder.

Blaise followed without missing a beat, though giving Ron a wary look, obviously realising he was potentially pissing off two Aurors, and also realising that it probably wasn't his smartest idea.

Draco merely rolled his eyes at his friend, turned and continued up the high street without a backward glance, leaving the Golden Trio standing in the middle of the street, and thinking of retreating into The Hogs Head for a quiet drink.

Harry turned to Hermione, silently asking her to explain. Ron however started to follow his sister.

Hermione put her hand out to stop him, "Ronald, no. Leave them be. Ginny is fine."

"Fine?!" He sputtered, "Fine?! She's walking alone with a Slytherin! Anything could happen to her! And you're telling me she's fine?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, for what felt like the millionth time that day – she really ought to get control over that particular reaction, she thought to herself.

"Ron, things are different now. Ginny and Zabini are kind of friends." She said, slightly unsure: it was still a strange concept to Hermione and she'd been living with it for a couple of weeks now.

Both boys raised their eyebrows, and Hermione sighed, "Can we move please? There's a chill, I think it's going to rain, and while Teddy is wrapped up nicely, I would like to get him inside before we all get wet."

Neither boy looked willing to move, "I'll tell you everything you want to know over lunch."

This was enough of an incentive, and finally they retreated inside. Hermione's shift didn't start for another half an hour, but not wanting to move to the prefects' table halfway through her lunch, she relieved the Hufflepuff and Slytherin on duty at the time, telling them she'd do the rest of their shift.

The Slytherin gave a tiny smile of thanks, and went on her way without a backwards glance. The Hufflepuff, however, stood looking at the three of them a little while, until both Ron and Harry were starting to feel uncomfortable.

"Is everything alright, Leanne?" Hermione asked, warily.

The girl blushed, "Sorry, I just wasn't expecting…. Sorry." She mumbled, before rushing off.

"Blimey, what was that about?" Ron asked, taking a seat.

Hermione chuckled, "Apparently we're more intimidating than we used to be."

Harry laughed, taking his seat next to Hermione and finally passing Teddy over to her, as Madame Rosmerta came over with some lunch menus and a round of Butterbeers – the three had frequented here a few times over the summer, and apparently she knew the routine.

"Alright," Ron demanded, once Rosmerta had left promising to be back in a few minutes to take their order. "Spill."

"Well, you know how Malfoy and I have our own tower, so I don't need to go into that. And I told you in my letter about how I've taken to spending all my free time there, to avoid the stares and whispers." Hermione started, and the boys nodded, telling her to get on to the important information.

"Malfoy does the same thing – except in his case he's escaping the glares and dark mutterings, not the grating admiration. And Zabini seems to trail wherever Malfoy goes. From what Zabini says, the Slytherin common rooms isn't the most welcoming place to be right now, everyone seems a little unsure of each other, after the war, apparently."

Hermione took a sip of her butterbeer.

"That's nice, but where does my sister come into this?" Ron asked, impatient as ever.

"Ginny spends a lot of time in the tower, also. Occasionally in the company of Dean, Neville and Parvati, but that's usually only weekends. But every night Ginny is in there doing homework, and the four of us have sort of got into the routine of studying together. It progressed from there, I guess. Believe it or not, we're actually quite mature." She finished.

Ron scoffed, "Yeah, right. I bet the ferret is real mature." He muttered into his flagon.

Hermione laughed, and shook her head. There was no use trying to convince him, Ron was adamant in his deep-rooted dislike.

Rosmerta returned to take their lunch order, and after noting down their requests, she asked. "Wine? Don't worry, I won't tell." She added to Hermione with a smile.

Hermione bit her lip, smiled mischievously, and nodded – she knew she shouldn't, but it would be so much fun to torture Malfoy about it later.

"Our usual, please." Hermione said.

Rosmerta nodded, and disappeared – being a member of The Golden Trio really did have its perks sometimes.

During lunch the conversation turned from the Slytherins, onto Hermione's duties – primarily, this ball everyone in the 'Broomsticks seemed to be talking about. As a waiter came to clear their empty plates, Harry looked to Hermione.

"How are the Defence classes going, by the way? Is Fidelis rising to the task?" Harry asked.

"You know him?" Hermione asked, immediately picking up on the familiarity with which Harry mentioned him.

"A little bit. He used to work in Law Enforcement, he was at a lot of the trials, so we spoke on occasion." Harry explained.

"Ah," Hermione nodded in understanding. As Harry probed again.

"Have all your lessons been as exciting as your first one?" He asked with a grin, and Ron snorted.

Hermione tried not to laugh, "You heard about that?" She asked, turning slightly pink with embarrassment.

Both Harry and Ron were openly laughing by now.

"Heard?" Ron said, "Fidelis wrote to Harry, thinking he'd like to know what his best friend and ex-girlfriend were getting up to. It was around the entire department by lunchtime." He told her.

"Harry!" Hermione scolded him.

Harry held up his hands, "I'm sorry, I laughed as soon as I read it, and I told Ron. Someone overheard, next think I knew it was spreading like fiendfyre."

"I'd had a bad day." Hermione defended with embarrassment.

"Wasn't this class in the morning?" Harry countered with a grin.

"Shut up." Hermione told him, while Ron laughed harder. Despite the harsh words, Hermione was laughing about it before long.

The Trio spent the rest of afternoon sat in the comfort of The Three Broomsticks, Harry and Ron telling Hermione everything they could about their jobs. The had removed to a table in a corner, once Hermione's shift had finished, and were speaking in hushed voices with no fear of being overheard.

After filling her in on some of the information from Lucius that they were about to act on, Hermione asked with a sly smile: "Should you really be telling me this?"

Harry and Ron exchanged guilty looks, "Probably not." Harry admitted.

"But it's weird, not having you in the loop, 'Mione." Ron told her.

Hermione smiled, "I wont tell a soul I promise. So you're pretty sure Finland is where they're hiding?" She asked.

"A couple of them, yes, for sure. Their safe house there is more like a fortress. And we have to act fast. As of yet, we've had a gagging order on all the trials. The only thing that can be reported is the person's name, their conviction, and their sentence. Nothing else that was said in the trial can be reported." Harry told her.

"Obviously a few trials have made front page, but everything that's been written has been what was already know about the person and their past. So as of yet, the general public shouldn't really know that Lucius is helping with our investigation." Ron added and Hermione nodded.

"But?" Hermione asked, knowing there was always a 'but' with these two.

"Chances are, they're going to know, or at least suspect that Lucius is going to tell us everything he can." Harry told her, "So we need to get out there as soon as we can, bring in as many as we can, before they hide away too well."

"How soon is soon?" Hermione asked. She wasn't keen on the idea of Harry and Ron going off without her, but this was their job. She had chosen to return to Hogwarts, instead of joining the Ministry, and this was the consequence. and she could deal with it, as long as they gave her enough time to prepare herself.

The look Harry and Ron then exchanged did nothing to ease her anxiety.

"When?" she asked again, slightly more stern.

"We've been planning the operations for a few weeks." Harry told her, evasively "To a degree that you would be proud of." He added.

"When?" she repeated, her look darkening.

"We leave tomorrow." Harry admitted quietly.

Hermione's eyes widened, "Tomorrow?"

Harry and Ron nodded, while Hermione tried to control the fear that had sprung up.

"You couldn't have told me sooner?" She asked.

"And have you fretting over us all day?" Ron countered, "not likely."

Hermione frowned, but didn't deny the truth of the statement. "How long will you be gone?" She asked quietly.

"As long as it takes." Harry told her. When Hermione frowned, he hurried to continue, "But we will have to properly report back to the office within six weeks, regardless of where we are at."

"If we're still on the hunt, we'd only be back in London for twenty-four hours before we'd have to be away again." Ron told her, "But chances are one of us will be popping back and forth every couple of weeks anyway, to give updates"

"Who can I contact, if I want to check up on you?" Hermione asked, ignoring the eye rolls this question sparked.

"Hermione, we'll be fine." Harry assured her, but Hermione simply glared until she answered.

Harry sighed, "I will let Kingsley know that you would like to be informed of our well-being." He sighed in defeat.

"Usually I'd go to the Head of the department, but considering our friendship with Kingsley, he's likely to be more accommodating of the request. Despite being busy with, you know, being the Minister." Harry said dryly.

Hermione looked at her watch, and looked saddened. "It's past five, I should be getting back to the castle soon." She told them.

Ron nodded, "We should be making a move, we have a lot to sort before tomorrow. And Harry needs to get Teddy back to the Manor."

Hermione resolved to at least walk Harry and Ron back up to the apparition point, and as they walked up the high street, she couldn't help but turn to Harry an ask:

"You're taking him back to the Manor yourself?" Harry nodded, and Hermione pressed on, "Do you go over there a lot?"

"A fair bit, actually." He admitted, "It was weird at first, but Andie did such a great job, it's nothing like I remembered it. And She and Narcissa are continuing with the re-vamp. I think they're planning on doing the entire place over." He told her.

"We've even been over for dinner a couple of times." Ron added.

"Both of you?" Hermione asked shocked.

"Harry mostly," Ron admitted, "He's been over quite a bit, actually. Usually after spending an afternoon with Teddy. But I've been invited a couple of times."

"Narcissa is actually rather good company, when you get to know her." Harry told Hermione sincerely.

Hermione was at a loss for words. Who would have thought Harry Potter and Ron Weasley would ever be invited to dine at Malfoy Manor? And, moreover, who would have thought they would actually enjoy the experience?

When they reached the apparition spot, Hermione's anxiety increased tenfold, and the boys noticed the concern on her face.

"Don't worry about us." Harry told her with a smile, "We'll be fine."

"Just promise me you'll be safe. And don't do anything to stupid." She said.

The boys grinned, "We'll be safe." Ron told her. Hermione frowned at the lack of acknowledgement of her second statement.

"Please tell me that the two of you are at least going to stick together. They haven't split you into separate teams?" she asked.

"Course not." Ron said, grin still in place. "They'd never dream of splitting up the dream team."

Hermione shook her head, and gave Ron a quick hug goodbye. "Try and keep Harry's hero-complex in line." She told him quietly, causing him to laugh.

"I'll try my best, but you know what he's like." He told her.

Hermione turned to Harry, whom now had Teddy strapped securely to his chest, ready for apparition. Reaching awkwardly around to kiss him on the cheek, and give him a quick a hug without squashing her Godson, she said.

"Make sure Ron doesn't do anything too stupid, keep an eye on him." She whispered.

"Always do," he smiled at her concern. "But you know what he's like."

"Keep an eye on Ginny for me, I don't trust that Zabini." Ron said.

"And just watch yourself as well. With Malfoy," Harry said, slowly. "I'm not going to tell what to do – or rather, what not to do. But just, be careful."

Harry had seen something in Malfoy's brief conversation with his bushy haired friend; there was something different, their dynamic had changed, and Harry wasn't entirely sure if he was comfortable with it. Ron had noticed nothing – he had been too busy keeping a close eye on Zabini and his sister.

Hermione laughed, "Ginny and I can handle ourselves perfectly fine, don't worry. We're holed up at school, how much trouble do you think we can get really get into?"

Both Harry and Ron raised their eyebrows in silent question, as if to remind her of her previous six years of study.

Hermione sighed, "Yeah, don't answer that." Realising that she was capable of getting into all sorts of trouble in that place.

"I have another errand to run, before I head back, so I need to go. But before I forget, Harry? Do you think I could borrow the map?" She asked.

Harry looked at her, a deadpan expression on his face for a moment, then laughed and shook his head.

Hermione frowned, "What?" she asked.

"I tell you not to go get into any trouble, and your first response is to ask for the map." Harry sighed, "I'm not going to ask, because chances are I don't want to know. But I will owl it to you as soon as I get home, I'll make sure it's delivered to your tower, not with the usual morning post."

Hermione grinned, "Thank you. I'll take good care of it, I promise" She told him, knowing how much the piece of parchment meant to him, giving him another peck on the lips, and kissing Teddy once more.

When the two boys had disappeared, Hermione let her smile fall, and concern flooded her face. They had left to face the unknown without her, and it didn't sit right with her. She knew they were capable – probably two of the most capable Aurors in the department, despite their age - but she still couldn't help but worry.

Knowing there was nothing she could do, she dismissed her worry for the time being, and glancing around to make sure no one was in the vicinity she disapparated, and appeared a moment later back in her bedroom in her parent's house.

She had thought this plan through on her walk into Hogsmeade with Ginny: Asking her mother to owl her the costume she wanted for the ball would incur all kinds of issues – it would probably take three owls to bring everything she needed, and god knows how long it would take. She knew she no longer had the trace on her, and while she wasn't able to apparate from inside Hogwarts, no one would know if she were to disappear out of Hogsmeade for all of five minutes…. she hoped.

She immediately rushed into her closet, looking for the boxes she required. Thanks to her perfect organisation, she found them in thirty seconds, and proceeded to carefully push them into her trusty sequin bag. She mentally checked through the items, before leaving the dressing room: she had the box with the dress, another box with the authentic corset and underskirts (her mother really did go overboard with authenticity on some occasions), she had the matching footwear and a small box of the correct jewellery, but something was missing.

"Think," Hermione told herself, scanning her shelves with a frown.

"The hood." She sighed, "Of course." She dug around the top shelf and pulled down the final box. As she was pushing it into her bag she heard something that made her freeze in an instant, and her heart rate intensified.

Voices were coming from her sitting room – no one entered her rooms while she was away at school, except her Mother or Father, and those voices were certainly not her Mother or Father.

They were hushed, and agitated, and although Hermione couldn't decipher any words, or whom the voices belonged to at the moment, their tone clearly told her that they knew they shouldn't be there. Silently she stood, placed her bag back into her robe pocket, and drew her wand. She crept from her closet, past her bed and over to the doors, one of which was ajar – she obviously hadn't closed it properly in her mad dash to leave on September 1st.

At this close range to the intruders, she was able to distinguish to whom the voices belonged and was shocked to hear Richard.

"I don't understand how you could possibly think that this conversation needs to be had, again. Nor how you think it is appropriate to have it here and now?" He hissed. Hermione frowned, out of all the rooms to bring someone to, to talk, why hers? She wasn't confused about his being in the house; no doubt her parents were having some formal dinner.

"I just think you're making a terrible mistake." The second person hissed back, whom Hermione recognised as Melissa.

"I'm not making a mistake, Mel. And you need to drop this." He warned her.

"I need to drop it? Richard, I'm worried about you! You obviously weren't happy this summer, otherwise you wouldn't have come seeking comfort in me." She told him. Hermione's jaw dropped, did Melissa mean what Hermione thought she meant?

"That was a mistake. I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that, and I really shouldn't have brought you into the mess. Hermione and I got into a fight, I'd had a few drinks by the time I came over, and I needed to vent." Richard said. "I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry."

"Vent? If you wanted to vent you would have. Instead, you came to my house and practically dragged me into bed. They are not the actions of someone who is happy with their fiancé."

Hermione's jaw seemed permanently stuck open; she could not believe what she was hearing.

"Things were weird between Hermione and I this summer. I think a lot has happened to her in the year she was gone. She won't tell me what, she can't tell me what. But I love her, Melissa, so I swear to god, if you say anything to anyone about what happened, I will make you pay."

"You say you love her. But while she was gone, you did a pretty convincing impression of loving me." Melissa said quietly.

Hermione frowned when there was no response. Curiosity getting the better of her, she shifted and peeked through the open door, but whipped her head back almost instantly. Melissa had wrapped herself around Richard, and was kissing him full on the moth. While Richard had looked slightly uncomfortable, he certainly wasn't resisting.

A moment later, Hermione heard a small scuffle and heard Richard say harshly: "What is the matter with you? Do you not understand the concept of 'no'?"

Hermione had heard enough, she needed to go: she had been absent from Hogsmeade much longer than she had planned. Without thinking she closed the door, regretting it instantly.

"What was that?" She heard Melissa say warily, then add, slightly panicked, "Is there someone in there?"

"Shit." Hermione mumbled. She rushed to her bed, picked up the shopping bags and disapparated quickly, not wanting to be found eavesdropping in her room, wearing robes that muggles hadn't worn since the middle ages, when she was supposed to be in the farthest reaches of Scotland.

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_**A/N: I hope you enjoyed the update, I know there isn't much Dramione happening, but trust me, we're getting there. Definitely some in the next chapters, I've had a blissfully unexpected day off today, which means I've written more than I thought I could, so I will hopefully have another update soon.**_

_**xBx**_


	15. Chapter 15: Hallowe'en

**_A/N: Yay, the world didn't end! And I managed to get another, extremely long chapter up before I depart Melb. Thank you to everyone who has been reading, I'm really glad you're sticking with me on this, I realise the pace is going a little slow, but it is going to pick up quickly, with regards to the Dramione moments, I can promise._  
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**_Thank you for my reviews, you guys are great, and so supportive. Hope you all enjoy._**

**_xBx_**

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**~ Chapter 15: Hallowe'en ~**

When Hermione returned to her tower, later that evening, she wasn't in the best of moods: her walk back hadn't been particularly calming. She should have known that returning home wasn't going to go well: she hadn't thought of Richard properly since returning to school, except when his name had appeared in the article. And now she had witnessed him kissing another woman – her friend, moreover - who he had slept with, apparently on numerous occasions, even when she had been around and their engagement was apparently a settled thing! Furious didn't even begin to describe her mood at the moment.

Hermione placed her bags, bar one, on the study table and went to the kitchen. In her rush to get back to Hogsmeade she hadn't thought of stopping off in her cellar. But when she appeared on the high street she realised regretfully that a glass of wine would probably ease the shock and anger, and whatever the hell else she was feeling. Instead she had called into The Hog's Head – after June, Aberforth had been much more welcoming, and she was sure he would happily supply her with a bottle of wine, or two, to sneak into the castle.

Draco was nowhere around on the lower floor of their tower which didn't bother her in the slightest, she was actually glad of a little peace and quiet. But as Hermione was taking a goblet from one of the cupboards, to pour herself a glass of wine, she heard him moving around in his room.

Hermione let out a sigh as she poured herself a glass, thinking she should probably be polite and offer him a share of her spoils. Just before the goblet reached her lips she stopped and frowned: Was that a piano she could hear?

Silently, she made her way up Draco's staircase and the sound became louder. Sure enough, when she got to his open doorway she saw Draco Malfoy, back towards her, sat at a magnificent grand piano. Hermione just stood in the doorway, eyebrows raised: she knew her rooms were a little ostentatious what with the large closet and a private sitting room, but a Grand Piano? in a bedroom?

The melody he was playing wasn't one Hermione was familiar with, but it was beautiful; he was a very talented player, and Hermione was impressed – not that she would ever admit that to him, of course. As she listened she leaned against his door-frame and some of her anger evaporated, but was replaced by a slight sadness – while the music was beautiful, Hermione could hear pain and turmoil in the notes, and possibly a hint of bitterness? she thought as she began to listen more closely.

Hermione had always felt that those people who said that the eyes were the windows to the soul were wrong. For her, music was the window: people can mask their emotions in their eyes, but when you played, the music flows from within you and each note told your emotion perfectly. Or so Hermione felt.

After a few moments Draco's hands came to rest, but he didn't move from his seat.

"You have a Grand Piano in you room?" Hermione asked dryly, causing Draco to visibly jump, making Hermione smirk.

"Jesus, Granger! What the hell are you doing, sneaking up on me like that?" He scolded, spinning round, while Hermione covered her laugh behind her hand.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I was coming up to offer you a drink, but I got distracted listening." She told him, "It's a beautiful instrument, and you play very well. Was that your own composition? I don't remember hearing anything like it in the past."

"I was just, playing." He mumbled, suddenly going uncomfortable. "Do you play?" He asked suddenly.

Hermione smiled, "I do actually. Even a mudblood can have classical talents." She joked.

Draco scowled, "Don't call yourself that." He told her, surprisingly harsh.

Hermione raised her eyebrow, shocked at his response to the word he had used so freely to her in the past. Not wanting to argue, she ignored the outburst and answered his question again, this time more thoroughly.

"My mother started to teach me when I was five. When I turned seven they engaged a professional tutor for me." Hermione smiled fondly, "My father was a little jealous, I think, of how much mother and I were bonding over our mutual talent, so he tried to teach me guitar. Unfortunately I didn't quite have the penchant for the guitar that my father hoped I would, but we play together a lot. He's always coming home with new sheet music – old and current – for us to play. We've spent many hours in the music room, especially if either one of us ever had a bad day. We always felt better after singing and playing." Hermione admitted.

"You couldn't pick up the guitar?" Draco asked, sounding slightly too smug. Hermione frowned.

"I could pick it up, I just didn't advance as quick as I did in the piano. And I didn't like how hard it made the skin on my fingers." Hermione countered.

"Hmmm" Draco said interestingly, "Personally I found the guitar even easier, and just as much fun to play."

Hermione glared, "Congratulations, you have found something which you can do better than me. Enjoy this moment, it is the first and the last time you will ever experience such a one." She told him.

Draco snorted at her defensiveness: Granger really didn't like being beaten in anything. "Is there any particular reason you're here in my doorway?" He asked.

"I was going to offer you a glass of wine. But after your smug gloating, I don't think I will." She said turning back down the stairs, head in the air.

Draco followed, "You snuck wine back into the castle?" He asked, mildly impressed at her audacity in flouting a very strict rule.

"Obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't be drinking it would I?" She huffed; stupid questions really irritated her, especially when she was in a foul mood.

Draco frowned as he took a seat on one of the bar stools, while Hermione walked around the other side and grabbed another goblet for Draco, despite what she had just told him.

"Are you alright, Granger?" he asked, "Only you look like you're about to snap and either cry-"

"I am not going to cry." She snapped at him.

"- Or throw something at someone before shouting and storming." Draco finished. "Which I would really appreciate that you didn't do, as you are holding a goblet of wine and I am the only other person here. What did Potty and the Weasel do?" he asked, automatically assuming it was their fault.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she handed Draco a goblet.

"Quit with the eye-rolls, Granger." Draco told her, taking the goblet, "You do it way to much."

Hermione ignored the last statement, and responded instead to the first:

"_Harry_ and _Ron_ didn't do anything." She told him, emphasising their correct names.

Hermione sighed, and decided it was probably better to at least get some of what was bothering her off her chest. And since he was the only person who really knew about her and Richard, it looked like she was going to have to offload on Draco.

"I called home for ten minutes," she started to explain.

"My, my. We are breaking all the rules today, aren't we?" Draco said with a shake of his head. Hermione frowned.

"What did you go there for?" He asked.

"Stupid costume for stupid Hallowe'en. I swear, this ball is turning into more trouble than it's worth." Hermione ranted, before taking a breath and continuing. "I was almost caught, by Richard."

"Right," Draco said slowly, not sure why this had put her in such a mood – _almost_ she had said, so he obviously hadn't seen her.

"And Melissa." She said darkly.

Draco quirked an eyebrow, "Melissa?" he questioned, though feeling he was about to regret this.

"Melissa is one of my oldest friends. She's also the person whom Richard chose to seek comfort with while I was absent for a year, saving the god-damn world one Horcrux at a time." She ranted, and instantly regretted it, realising her mistake.

"One what at a time?" Draco asked, struggling to keep pace with Hermione's ranting, especially when she started throwing around words he'd never heard of before.

Hermione swallowed, "Nothing, you didn't hear that. I never said it." She pleaded.

"Alright." Draco agreed, taking in the sudden panic, though he silently placed this piece of information to the back of his mind for future questioning, as Hermione continued to rant about everything she had overheard and openly debating at whom she was more angry at: Richard for cheating on her with her oldest friend, or said friend for trying to steal her fiancé.

"Correct me if I'm wrong Granger, but I thought you wanted out of the engagement? So in the end, does this really matter?" Draco pointed out, when she had ranted herself into silence. "Also, isn't this an excellent reason to end said engagement? I mean when this comes out, Richard isn't going to be very popular now, is he?" He continued, but regretted it instantly, as the glare Hermione sent him even made him shiver with a tiny prickle of fear – only tiny, mind you, Draco Malfoy wasn't a coward, no woman could truly scare him, but the wrath of Hermione Granger was infamous: no one was safe from her.

"Do you know how embarrassing this could be if itever got out? Not just for me, but for my parents as well? How would you feel if your fiancé was gallivanting around with other men, making a fool out of you and bringing shame and embarrassment to the Malfoy family name?" she snapped.

"Well that would never happen. One: because I don't have a fiancé, and two: because when I do, _I_ will be choosing whom she will be, not putting up with whomever my parents decide are the best option." Draco said simply. "I am not having any of this old school, pureblood society expectation bullshit shoved down my throat ever again." He mumbled. "And quite frankly, I'm surprised you're putting up with these kind of old-fashioned, upper-class muggle ideals." He added, his voice a normal level again.

Before Hermione could answer, the portrait opened and Ginny and Parvati wondered in.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. Ginny and Parvati will be spending the evening here." Hermione told him with a sigh, before forcing a smile at the girls, "Take a seat, I'll bring some drinks over."

The girls turned wordlessly to the sofas, as Hermione gathered two more goblets and the bottle in her spare hand, her own drink in the other, and headed over to the girls.

"Mention any of my rant to anyone and I will hurt you." She muttered, as she passed Draco.

"Fine. Mention the piano and _I_ hurt _you_." Draco responded, just as quiet.

Hermione nodded and went to take her seat, as she sat down Ginny called over the back of the sofa:

"Joining us, ferret?" Hermione frowned at the term, She had hoped they were above the name-calling now, but apparently not, though it didn't seem to bother Draco in the least.

"Don't mind if I do, Weaselette." He said, standing from his stool and moving to one of the chairs – what had once been intended hurtful terms of mockery had seemingly become odd terms of a strange kind of endearment between the two. He took in Hermione's raised eyebrow as he sat, "What? I'm waiting down here for Blaise anyway, and I rather sit here where it's comfy."

Hermione didn't say anything but turned to pour drinks for her friends.

"Erm, is that wine?" Parvati asked. When Hermione nodded, Parvati laughed, "You smuggled it in?"

Hermione shrugged a shoulder, "Of course. It was easy."

"If it's so easy, we should have a Christmas party, here." Ginny said.

"Oh joy." Drawled Hermione, "Organising this damn ball is about to kill me, so of course I want to organise a bloody Christmas Party after."

"Fine I'll organise it." Ginny said, "But first, Hallowe'en. You guys got your costume sorted?" She asked.

Draco picked up his book, really not interested in this type of girly conversation, and praying Blaise would turn up soon and relieve him from the overflow of oestrogen.

Ginny was almost finished with her costume – she had decided to attend as Cleopatra, she had a fascination with Ancient Egypt, which had been fuelled by Bill and his stories from working as a curse-breaker.

Parvati was still a little undecided, "I originally thought of Jane Austen, I love her work. But then Dean had a… well a rather bizarre suggestion, to be honest. It sounded a good idea, for Neville, Dean, Padma and I. But then I saw pictures of the costumes and now I'm seriously questioning his judgement." She admitted.

"Do tell," Ginny said with a grin.

"Have you heard of a group called ABBA?" She asked.

Ginny looked confused and shook her head, but Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle her laugh. Parvati sighed at Hermione's reaction.

"Clearly, you have." She said, as Hermione was overcome, and let the laugh out, throwing her head back with unrestrained amusement at the mental image she had conjured.

"Oh, you have to do it. Please," Hermione said with glee.

"What about you Hermione?" Parvati asked, deciding not to respond, and move the conversation on. "Whom are you going as?"

"I'm going as Anne Boleyn, I snuck back to my parents this afternoon to grab the costume." She told them.

Parvati's eyes lit up, "Can we see it?" she asked excitedly.

"You snuck back home?" Ginny asked, and then shook her head, "You know, for Head Girl, you're flouting an awful lot of rules today."

Hermione ignored the comment and the subsequent snort from Draco, as she summoned over her sequin bag, landing it on the coffee table. Despite his intention not to be drawn into the conversation, Draco was interested in the costume – or rather the quality of the costume. Recently, as he had become to know Hermione more, he had formed a few vague ideas of her background that had never occurred to him before, and he was eager for a few hints of confirmation.

Hermione opened her bag and proceeded to pull out the boxes.

"Here," She handed a box to Parvati, "Is the French Hood. And this," she placed a small box on the table, "is the jewellery. This," she tossed the box containing the under-garments on the floor, "We don't need to bother with."

Finally she pulled out the box the others had been waiting to see, "This, is the dress." She said, removing the lid and carefully taking out a golden silk gown. The skirt was full – or would be once the underskirts were attached – and the sleeves funnelled dramatically at their bottom, as was the style at the time, with wide cuffs of green silk. The low-cut square neckline was also trimmed with the same green silk, and decorated with beading and pearls that matched those on the hood, which Parvati had recently removed gently from it's box.

"Wow," the girls breathed, taking in the gowns beauty. Draco couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the sight in front of him. The gown was obviously well made and of heavy and expensive material: the reproduction was entirely authentic and when Hermione held it to her body he could instantly tell it had been custom made to fit her exact measurements – clearly, a fair amount of money had gone into this piece, for the purpose of one party.

"There are also some shoes in the bag, designed to match the gown." She rolled her eyes, "My mother organised all this for me while I was at Hogwarts in sixth year, and she is nothing if not thorough."

Draco was starting to be confident in his theory that the 'affluent muggle heiress' that the Witch Weekly article had tagged Hermione's muggle to, was in fact Hermione – the reporter just hadn't put two and two together, nor been able to come up with a name. The more he had thought about it, the more it started to make sense: Hermione's natural poise, and constant correct speech that never slipped, was indicative of a slightly higher level of upbringing – he couldn't even really place where abouts in England she was from based on her accent, though he now supposed the North, after the article. Then there was the expensive engagement ring he had seen – yes, her fiancé financed that, but Hermione hadn't been uncomfortable with the obvious expense of it, only it's connotation, suggesting expensive jewellery wasn't foreign to her. Add onto this his recent discovery that she seemed to be intimately acquainted with the Piano, referred to having a 'music room', and now this incredibly expensive and incredibly accurate replica of Tudor dress. Draco believed Hermione was higher in muggle society than she was letting on.

Hermione folded the dress neatly back into it's box and took the hood from Parvati, after Ginny had asked how exactly it was supposed to be worn. Hermione held it in place briefly with her hands, and Draco was momentarily stuck by the likeness she resembled to an original portrait of Anne that was in the Manor. It was something in her eyes, and the turn of her head, and it was only there for a moment, but it sent a shiver along his spine non-the less.

Parvati then moved onto the small box on the table, unveiling a few strings of pearls, some ear-rings, a couple of rings, and the famous Boleyn 'B' necklace. As Parvati held it up, Draco couldn't help his little exclamation.

"Wow," he said leaning forward, "That is the most impressive replica I've seen, by far."

The girls turned, and raised their eyebrows in unison, surprised at Draco's knowledge and input into the conversation.

"So I'm cultured in the lavish history of the Muggle Royal family, sue me." He drawled, before turning to Hermione and asking: "I'm assuming a replica as authentic as this wasn't a run-of-mill one? You had it custom-made I presume?"

"Why do I feel like this is a loaded question?" Hermione asked, immediately on her guard in response to his overly-casual tone.

Draco smirked, "Just a question, Granger."

"Yes, it was as a matter of fact. We had a made a few years ago." She said slowly, noticing that he didn't seem surprised, but rather that her admission had confirmed something he was thinking.

Hermione decided to ignore it, and turn back to the girls to explain why it had been made.

"My mother and I have always been fascinated with the juxtaposition of the Tudor Court: the lavish lifestyle, full of smiles to the outside world, but Henry was such a tyrant at times that his court was such a dangerous place to be. Behind all the smiles of his favourites was a genuine fear for their lives. It was the best place to be, but at the same time it was the worst. And as I got older, I became obsessed with the story of Anne Boleyn, and this necklace is so iconic, very much a part of her persona, that I wanted to try and find it."

Hermione gave a little indulged laugh at the memory, "Mother and I spent months and months researching it. As a birthday present, a few years ago, we got this replica made. A friend of the family is a rather avid historian, and he specialises in the Tudor period, he knows a few people, and we got together to create an authentic as possible replica, based on paintings, original sketches and written descriptions of the original piece."

"Do you know what happened to the real one?" Ginny asked.

Hermione's shoulder's slumped, "No." she sighed sadly. "It just seems to have disappeared – there are a few theories, each as unlikely as the next, of course. But all we managed to know for sure is that the necklace, along with a few other personal effects, were handed down to Elizabeth. But after Elizabeth, there's no trace of the damn thing."

"And you have no theories, Granger? That surprises me." Draco said with a smirk, as if he knew something she didn't.

Hermione frowned at him, "Why the smirk? Do _you_ have a theory?" She asked, folding her arms defensively.

Draco gave a knowing shrug, but didn't say anything. Instead, he asked: "What would you do if you found it?"

Hermione thought, "I don't know. I would want to buy it, but it's priceless, no one in their right mind would sell it. My mum once suggested stealing it – she figured it would be easy for me with my magic." She laughed, "I don't _think_ she was serious, but I put a stop to that train of thought immediately. I'd love to wear it though, just once." She said with a smile of longing, gazing into the fireplace.

Draco continued to watch Hermione, thoughtfully, as she was drawn back into the conversation with the other two Gryffindors. He was mulling over an idea that had formed in his mind; the instant it had occurred he had been unable to shift it. He had no idea why he suddenly seemed to want to do what he was going to try and do, all he knew was that she would appreciate it. He would go so far as to say that she would love it, and for some reason the idea of making her that happy made him feel pretty good. He was not going to start trying to figure out the reasons being this strange turn of character for him, and decided that he – along with everyone else Hermione knew – felt she deserved some happiness after what the past year had put her through. He felt partly to blame for the worst of what had happened to her, after last night he had a renewed sense of guilt over what had happened in his home, what he had failed to put a stop to, and it was eating him alive. This would be his way of trying to start to make up for that – his way of saying sorry. _Yes, that was it_ Draco reasoned, ignoring the tiny voice, questioning him in the back of his mind, _that's the sole reason I'm going to try and do this._

His musings were interrupted when the portrait slammed open and a disgruntled Blaise stormed in, muttering obscenities under his breath. All four occupants of the room looked up mildly surprised: Blaise was dripping wet, covered in mud and still in his Quidditch training robes. Clearly his practice hadn't gone as well as Ginny's had.

"You." Blaise said to Draco, "This is your fault. You decided you didn't want to be in the team, and now I'm stuck with bunch of incompetent retards!" He ranted.

Ginny snickered, up to this point she had been favourably taking in Blaise's attire; heavy and wet, the fabric was clinging deliciously to his muscles. And there was something about the way the rain clung to his hair, and the stormy look in his eyes that made Ginny realise just how attractive Blaise really was. Despite this newly realised desire that had risen inside her, Ginny wouldn't miss an opportunity to rile the opposition.

"Not feeling confident about our first match, in November?" She asked, "_My_ team are more than prepared to pummel you to the ground." She assured him.

Blaise glared at her, but his menace did nothing to recoil Ginny, instead she gave him a wink, and continued to talk to the girls. Draco drew Blaise's attention back to himself,

"Just because I chose not to play, doesn't mean that the intellectual shortcomings of the rest of the squad _you_ chose is _my_ fault." He said calmly. "Go shower, and change. You'll feel better." He told him, turning back to his book.

"I'm not going back to the tower yet. If I do, you will have to play in the first game, because I will murder at least one member of the team." Blaise growled.

Draco chuckled, "Fine, use our shower. And be quick, I want to send an owl before it's too late." He said, shutting his book and moving to the study table to write the letter to his mother that he had been forming in his mind for the past ten minutes.

The next couple of weeks leading up to Hallowe'en were extremely busy for Hermione, her fellow Heads, and the prefects. On the Wednesday evening, the four heads and their prefects remained in the Great Hall after dinner had ended, to help with the decorations ready for the standard Hallowe'en festivities on the morrow. By 10pm the hall was looking perfectly spooky, and Draco and Hermione left the hall after all the prefects had gone. As they were coming through the doors, Hermione dawdled back a moment to sneak a couple of sugar-spun spiders, walking into the entrance hall just in time to hear her name being spoken in the annoying whiny tone of Pansy Parkinson.

"Granger?" She said, in disbelief.

"Yes?" Hermione said, coming up to the pair – from the look on both their faces as they turned to her, they were in the middle of yet another argument.

Pansy turned to glare at Hermione, "You're going to the ball with Draco?" she questioned in accusation.

"I am?" Hermione said, with raised eyebrows looking at Draco, the sugar-spider still resting at her lips.

"I am." She repeated, slowly, looking back at Pansy after receiving Draco's glare, which clearly told her she would not survive the fallout if she contradicted him. "And now I'm going to bed."

She walked toward the marble staircase without at backwards glance, not wanting to get in the middle of one of Pansy and Draco's little spats.

"Scram Parkinson." Draco said roughly, before following Hermione and taking the stairs two at time to catch her at the top.

"I'm going with you to the ball?" Hermione asked him, dryly.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Parkinson cornered me, Blaise tipped me off that she was intending to ask me, and the only 'no' she would accept would be if I was already going with someone" Draco admitted.

"So you thought of me? I am the last person in the world anyone one expects to see you with." She said incredulously.

"I said we were going to be on duty more of the night, so dates weren't really an option for us. I said we would be sticking around each other to front the whole 'inter-house unity' crap. I may also have said it was suggested by McGonagall, so I couldn't get out of it." He told her, finally looking at her and noticing what she was sucking on.

"You're not supposed to take those. They are for tomorrow." He frowned, realising instantly that this was something she was supposed to say – he was supposed to be the one sneaking and breaking the rules, while she told him off. Since when had this role reversal come about?

Hermione pulled the second out of her pocket and tossed it to him. "Oh relax, no one's going to miss them, they are there to be eaten after all."

###

When Saturday rolled around, Hermione spent the afternoon in the Great Hall making sure the final preparations were all going according to plan – while she had the help of Draco, Luna and Zacharias, she couldn't help but double check everything they did thanks to obsessive organisation and need for control.

The hall looked spectacular: intricate cobwebs hung in almost garland like fashion across the enchanted ceiling, along which crawled the sugar-spun spiders Hermione had cleverly enchanted. Throughout the night, they would unexpectedly descend into the crowd below, at certain intervals until all had disappeared – if only Ron was going to be there, Hermione would have loved to have seen his face if one had dropped on his head. The usual floating candles were still present, but were now black instead of white. A few colonies of live bats were flying intermittently about the room, and a few skeletons were currently standing around the edges, but would begin to move around the room later on in the evening.

The four house tables, and the long teachers tables had disappeared and were replaced with an hundred smaller round tables in the main floor space, and two larger round tables on the raised dais at the front (one for teachers and one for the Heads and Prefects).

The ball was going to follow a similar line to that as the Yule ball: there would be a sit down dinner (though with a set and timed menu – less work for the House elves was always a good thing in Hermione's eyes) commencing at 7pm, which would run for an hour and a half, at which point the tables would be cleared and vanished, the dais would then become the stage and the band would begin their set.

"Wow, Hermione, this place looks great." A voice said behind her, and Hermione turned to see George Weasley standing and appraising the room.

Hermione smiled and went to hug him, "George, you're here. And I love the costume." She said, taking in his appearance. He was dressed in a pair of black, tailored suit pants, a crisp white shirt with a black bow tie, and a red waistcoat. The ensemble was finished with a black tailcoat, matching the pants, and a black top hat. In short, he was the perfect stereotype of an old-fashioned, muggle magician.

"Well, if I'm indulging in the art of a muggle magician this evening, I thought I ought to look the part." He said.

George had agreed to attend the event and showcase a range of 'magic' tricks that were popular with muggles. He and Hermione had discussed using everything from the standard card tricks all the way to slicing the glamorous assistant in half, and George had outdone himself in the previous weeks getting to grips with the muggle art of illusionism. Tonight he was going to perform a variety of muggle tricks, and explain the logistics behind how the illusion was created – in essence, he was going to teach them how muggles did 'magic'.

"It's perfect," she commended him, "Follow me, I'll show you where to set up." She said, leading him toward the left hand wall of the hall. A good sized area had been set up near the pair of doors leading out into a large shrubbery, these doors were usually covered by curtains, but tonight they were thrown wide.

"I know it looks a little cramped at the minute, but once dinner is finished and the tables are vanished, you'll have plenty of room to spread out more if you need." She told him. "The dinner starts at seven, I've put you on the teachers table, between Hagrid and a Ministry representative – we have three members of the Ministry dining with us tonight, though whom, I'm not entirely sure I'm afraid. Potentially Kingsley, if not someone from his office, a representative form Magical co-op and one from muggle liaisons." She told him.

George chuckled at her tone, "You're sounding very formal, 'Mione. Are you alright?" He asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Hermione laughed, "Sorry, it's the stress of organising. I honestly don't know how my mother does it so often." She said with a sigh. "I'm exhausted already, and still have to change – it's going to take me hours to get ready, I'll end up being late to my own event at this rate."

"Hermione, you're head girl, delegate." He told her, glancing at his watch. "It's five-thirty. I can set up here in no time, so I can help out with anything else of they need an extra set of hands. Claire, my 'glamorous assistant' will be here at seven-thirty on the dot ready to get to work, don't worry about that. Everything else looks near enough sorted. Go get ready." He told her.

Just then, Draco was moving around in her vicinity. "Malfoy!" She called, and he turned to face her.

"Do you mind if I go, get a head start on getting ready? You got this right?" She called.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "Are you actually delegating responsibility to me, Granger? Trusting me to see that things are finished correctly?" He asked, mocking her slightly.

Hermione frowned, "Am I going to regret this?" she said harshly.

"Just go, Granger, I got this. But I will be up in thirty minutes; you better make sure you're out of the bathroom by then. I want to shower and you're not the only with an elaborate costume." He told her, turning his back to continue his duties.

Hermione turned and smiled to George, "Thanks again, for doing this. It's going to be great." She told him, before rushing out of the hall to begin turning herself into her idol.

An hour later Hermione was in her room, magically lacing-up the back of her gown. She slipped her feet into her custom made Tudor style boots, again lacing them with magic – no way could she bend in this corset.

She had her hair braided back: the braid started at the back of her head, allowing her to keep a parting in the middle, the front of which would be displayed once her hood was positioned in the pushed-back way it was believed that Anne favoured. Her make up was extremely simple, just a light powder to even her skin tone, and some concealer to minimise the dark circles beginning to form under her eyes. She had used a thin line of dark brown eyeliner along her lashes, which deepened the hue of her eyes, turning her caramel orbs into alluring pools of chocolate. And finished the look off with a dusting of natural toned eye-shadow with black mascara, and a light pink blush to bring some colour to her cheeks.

She pinned the braid up at the nape of her neck and threw a string of pearls around her neck before reaching for her earrings. Just as she was fastening the first earring, there was a knock on the bathroom door.

"You can come in." she called to Draco, who immediately entered. Hermione didn't look up from where she was putting in the second earring and adjusting the set of long pearls in the mirror, giving Draco a moment to fully take in the view he was facing.

"Wow," He murmured, "You look incredible." He said automatically. In truth, she looked better than incredible, the gown looked simply divine on her, fitting her perfectly, the corset emphasising her tiny waist and ample bosom.

Hermione straitened and turned, "Thank you," she smiled, and then suddenly bit her lip in an attempt not to laugh as she took in Draco's costume wide eyed.

"You're wearing tights." She said, a small laugh escaping.

Draco was less than amused, "They are not tights. They are a close-fitting trouser, I believe they were traditionally called hose, and they are an authentic Tudor replica."

"Mmmhmmm." Hermione said, her smile widening, "You are a brave man to wear tights in public at Hogwarts. Why Henry VIII?" she asked – the costume couldn't be anyone else, and he had even glamoured his hair to turn it that famous Tudor red.

Draco shrugged, "It seemed like an ideal costume seeing as we're supposed to be going to this thing together. Plus, the guy created a church just so he could divorce his wife and marry his mistress. I'd say that's pretty inspirational."

Hermione laughed, "Well your costume is fantastic. That must have cost a fortune, the attention to detail is incredible." She said, looking him up and down.

Draco smirked, "I'm going to wager it cost about the same as your extravagant ensemble." He said knowingly.

Hermione bit her lip, and couldn't help but think that he was somehow managing to suss out her parents' rather affluent lifestyle. Determining to change the subject she turned back to her dressing table to reach for the 'B' pendant, her last jewellery piece to put on before tackling the hood.

"Just give me five minutes and I'll be ready to go." She told him.

"Before you do that," Draco said, stopping Hermione in her tracks, "I have something for you. I though you might like to wear it tonight, it will go with your costume perfectly." He said with his signature smirk.

Hermione dropped the pendant and turned back to him with a wary smile, "Okay," she said slowly.

"Now this is only a loan, so don't get excited. And don't think of trying to steal it, otherwise you will have my mother to answer to. But I thought you would appreciate it for the night." He told her holding out a worn looking, black leather box.

Hermione took it hesitantly, and lifted the lid, almost dropping the entire thing when she revealed its contents. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened, she looked up at Malfoy.

"This can't be…? Surely, it's not…? Is it…?" She breathed, not even able to form a complete sentence.

Draco grinned; "Real?" he finished for her, "Oh it is." He assured her smugly.

"How?" She asked incredulously, looking back down at the famous Boleyn 'B' set on a string of pearls.

"The speculations are correct with regards to the necklace being given to Elizabeth. My father's namesake, the first Lucius Malfoy, was a respected member at her court. Of course the Malfoys denied this in later generations, but before the Statute of Secrecy our family would socialise with the Royal circles and the most influential of Muggles. Lucius apparently fell in love with Queen Elizabeth I and even asked for her hand in marriage."

Hermione grimaced, "That obviously didn't end well, as she famously never married."

"Quite. Actually it's thought that Lucius is responsible for that: he didn't take rejection well." Draco admitted.

Hermione laughed, "Are you saying your ancestor jinxed Queen Elizabeth I into spinsterhood to get revenge for rejection?" She asked incredulously.

Draco nodded, "Yes. And apparently he took a little token to add to the Malfoy's collection." He added, indicating to the case in Hermione's hand.

Hermione looked back at the necklace, disbelief and fascination etched across her features. Draco smiled as Hermione shifted the box so that it rested in her left hand, raising her right hand to hover over it to touch it, but not making contact, clearly still in disbelief at what she was looking at.

"You can touch it you know," he told her quietly, unable to keep the humour out of his voice. Hermione glanced at him, glaring with her eyes, but still smiling. She looked back at the necklace and as her fingers delicately touched the pearls, she let out an emotional laugh.

"I can't believe I am actually holding this in my hand." She said, and out of nowhere there were tears in her eyes. She was holding an incredible peace of history, and she had dreamt of this moment many times over the years, though believing it to be entirely impossible.

She laughed again in disbelief, still delicately running her fingers over the pearls. Draco rolled his eyes at the reaction, but still smiled, apparently she hadn't been exaggerating when she said she was a little obsessed with anything Tudor, especially Ann Boleyn, related. He took the box from her and removed the necklace.

"I didn't get my mother to floo it here so you could just stare at it in its box." He said, walking behind her.

Hermione followed his movements with her head, "Are you seriously going to let me wear it?" She asked, still incredulous, and feeling she was dreaming this moment.

"Yes, now stand still." Draco told her.

Hermione faced forward again, and stood still as instructed, while Draco placed the pearls delicately around her neck, fastening them carefully. Hermione ignored the tingling down her spine that she felt when Draco's fingers brushed along the back of her neck, telling herself it was the feel of actually wearing Anne's necklace that had caused the sensation, and not Draco's delicate touch.

Hermione tentatively reached up to feel the pearls on her, "Thank you, so much." She said, with feeling.

Draco shrugged, "Your costume is now complete, you can really get into character. Now, let's go get this teenage nightmare over with." He said.

"One second, my hood. Do you know how inappropriate it would be for Ann Boleyn to appear in front of her court with her head uncovered?" Hermione asked, in mock severity.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Drama queen," He muttered and headed towards the door, "Just hurry." He said over his shoulder.

Hermione turned back to her mirror and proceeded to don the French hood, stepping back she admired the full effect of the ensemble, turning each side, making sure the costume fell about her perfectly. Gently, she pushed the hood back from her face a tiny bit.

"Perfect." She murmured. Her eyes shone briefly as they rested upon the pendant in the mirror, she fingered it lightly once more and gave a small giggle, still in slight disbelief at what she was actually wearing.

"For Merlin's sake, Granger! Get a bloody move on!" She was pulled out of her reverie by Draco's irritated shout up her staircase. Hermione arranged her features into a perfectly serene mask, straightened herself up, and headed down, with a sly smile creeping into her lips – the kind of smile perfectly fitting for the character.

"You know, if ever Henry spoke to Anne in such a way, all hell broke loose." Hermione said conversationally as she descended.

Draco didn't respond instantly, he was momentarily in awe as he watched her walk into the room where he was waiting for her: now that her costume was complete she looked beyond amazing. There was a sly look in her eyes, and a playful smile just tugging at her lips, and Draco felt she couldn't be any more alluring if she tried. Draco felt something stir in the pit of his stomach, but he ignored it and pushed it away – the last thing he needed was to be allured by Hermione Granger.

"I see you're getting into character: I'm going to regret giving you that bloody necklace by the end of the night, you'll be more insufferable than you usually are." He said, "Now can we get a move on, it's nearly ten-to."

"If only you could get into character, I'm sure a young Henry was much less of an ass than you're being at the moment." Hermione retorted, heading for the doorway.

As she passed out of the tower she silently thanked the gods the painting concealing the doorway was rather wide – there was no way she could have manoeuvred the Gryffindor's portrait hole in this dress.

"Be careful what you wish for Granger, I might end up taking your head by the end of the night, if I get too into my character." Draco joked as he followed her through the corridors down to the hall, and Hermione laughed.

"Who's guarding the drinks table this evening?" Draco asked after a few moments of silence, with a studied nonchalance, that Hermione immediately distrusted.

She looked at him carefully, "You want to spike th drink don't you? You have Firewhiskey in your pocket, haven't you?" She accused.

"I am a king, I don't have to answer to you." He smirked as they came to the Marble staircase.

"Don't waste it all those younger students. Save it for later, invite Ginny and Blaise to the tower after, maybe a couple of others." Hermione suggested.

Draco actually stopped halfway down the stairs; Hermione didn't notice right away, and had to turn a few steps down, to look back up at him, "What?" She asked impatiently.

"Are you actually suggesting we try and get away with having an after-party?" He asked, slightly shocked.

"No." Hermione said, and then gave a playful smirk, "I'm _telling_ you that we _are_ having an after-party."

By the time they made it into the Great Hall, everyone had already began seating themselves at the tables, and they were the last to take their seats at their table up on the dais. Hermione took her seat next to Luna just as the first course appeared in front of them. During the first course Hermione and Luna chatted happily about their costumes while Draco remained silent, casually taking in the rest of the room.

"What the hell is Longbottom wearing?" He said, suddenly.

Hermione looked up at Draco, and then followed his gaze to where Neville was just retaking his seat between the Patil Twins. Hermione's face cracked into a wide smile.

"They would by classic 70's flares, I'm assuming Dean is wearing something similar. And from what I can see of Padma and Parvati, they have gone with the well known cat mini-dress ensemble." Hermione said with a laugh. She turned to look at Draco to explain, "The four of them have come together as ABBA, a very successful Swedish pop group from the 70's."

When the four-course dinner was over, McGonagall silenced the hall, and introduced Hermione and Draco to speak to the Hall on behalf of the Prefects. Hermione spoke the most, but kept it short and simple, thanking the prefects for their relentless efforts in making the night come together, "And it's great to see how enthusiastically you have all entered into the spirit of this evening, I have to say, looking around their room the costumes are incredible. In a moment, the tables will be removed and for the rest of the evening as we have been fortunate enough to engage The Flaming Hippogriffs, who will provide us with ample entertainment. Drinks and refreshments are set up along the back wall, and over by the doors leading outside we have an excellent exhibition of tradition muggle 'magic tricks', that George Weasley – who a lot of you will know and recognise – has kindly agreed to showcase for us, and I think you're going to be pretty impressed with them." She said with a smile.

"And now," Draco said, finally speaking up, "If you'll stand, we'll vanish the tables, and start the real fun." He said with roguish grin.

Ass everyone in the hall stood and the teachers vanished the tables, Hermione looked at Draco with a frown, "Did you have to make that sound quite so dirty and inappropriate?" She said.

"Are you going to move, or are you planning on being the band's front man for the evening." He responded, turning away and descending down onto the main floor. Hermione gathered her skirts and followed him down, where Blaise and Ginny soon accosted them – or as they were for the evening, Anthony and Cleopatra.

The four chatted comfortably, and were soon joined by Dean, Neville and the Patil twins who greeted them in a similar way that Ginny had; complimenting her on her costume, and congratulating her and her team on their preparations, and falling effortlessly into the conversation.

The conversation soon turned to costumes, and Draco couldn't help but mock the outrages flares of Neville and Dean.

"I'm actually getting grief about my costume from a man wearing tights?" Neville asked dryly.

"Come on Granger," Draco said suddenly, taking her hand, ignoring Neville's jibe and the subsequent laughs, "I feel like I'm drowning in Gryffindor righteousness, and I'm not dancing on my own." He told her, leading her to the dance floor with a sudden determination that didn't leave time to even think of refusing.

Hermione gave a quick look of alarm over her shoulder at Ginny, who merely smirked, and within seconds she was in the middle of the dance floor, being spun to face Draco who moved one hand to her waist.

Hermione's eyes widened in shock at how easy and familiarly he held her, "I don't-" She began.

"Don't tell me you can't dance: I saw you at the Yule ball, plus I'm sure you've been made to dance a few waltzes at your parents' parties." He accused, not letting her finish.

Hermione frowned, "This music isn't exactly conducive to a waltz." She told him, just as the music changed.

Hermione closed her eyes, shook her head and laughed, as Draco smirked.

"I had to speak out." Hermione mumbled as the lead singer said: "We're going to take it down for a couple of songs."

As the band went into one of their power ballads, Draco took a step closer and began to move with the music.

"Don't look down at your feet. I'll lead, you shouldn't try and follow, it never works." Draco told her.

Hermione glared, "I do know how to dance, I'm aware of the technicalities of the leading and following." She snapped.

Draco smirked, "I thought as much. No doubt you were given a thorough teaching in preparation for your debut into muggle society at seventeen." He mocked.

"Eighteen." She corrected him, automatically, "Muggles come of age at eighteen. But that's not the point. I never had a debut. What is with all these random assumptions you're making about my life, all of a sudden?" She asked him warily.

"Just curious." He said evasively, "Tell me Granger, where's your family home?"

"I grew up just outside of York." She told him, keeping her eyes on his face, watching his reactions closely. But he was wearing a serene mask of nonchalance; only his eyes hinted that there were more to his questions. As she looked, his eyes creased into a smile, and his lips curled up into his familiar smirk.

"You're trying to figure out why I'm so interested?" He accused her.

Hermione smiled warily, "I'm wondering what _you're_ trying to figure out with these questions." She countered. "Tell me, what does my recent admission tell you?" She asked.

Draco chuckled, "That you are incredibly well spoken for a Yorkshire woman: It's a hard accent to cover, yet you do it flawlessly. Only a handful of people can accomplish that." He answered slyly.

"Oh really?" Hermione said, in mock ignorance, "And, pray tell, who are these lucky individuals?"

Draco smirked again, "Oh, you know, those muggle heiress types, the kind whom that Richard guy is supposedly going to marry, according to Witch Weekly."

Hermione frowned at the mention of Richard – he was the last person she wanted to think about when she was having a surprisingly good time.

"Well, that certainly isn't me now, is it?" She said, "Everyone is well aware that I am not a muggle." She told him, not confirming the other charge.

But Hermione's lack of denial to the heiress charge was all he needed to know, he didn't say a word however, simply continued to dance as the band slipped seamlessly into their next song. The song was along the same tempo, and while the beat changed imperceptibly, Draco and Hermione didn't falter in their steps, as Draco continued to lead her around the floor. They were pretty much silent throughout the second song, both focused completely on the other person and oblivious to the curious looks they were getting from their fellow students. Hermione was soon lost in the music, and slowly becoming lost in Draco's eyes. His hands were warm against her; his right resting comfortably on the small of her back had slowly been drawing her closer to him. His left hand grasped hers, and while they had started in a fairly formal position, their clasped hands were now in between them, gently resting against Draco's chest. Hermione felt completely comfortably, despite her earlier reservations, and the lack of Draco's usual defensive mask had tuned his eyes into hypnotic swirls of silver, as opposed to the hard steel they used to be, causing Hermione to lose herself in their depths rather quickly.

When the song finished, and the band introduced their next song, Hermione and Draco's little bubble burst abruptly, and they realised in how intimate a position they had become. Both immediately felt a little awkward, and took a hesitant step back. Draco let his arm fall from around her waist, and Hermione let go of his hand she was holding.

"I'm going to go get a drink." Draco said quickly, and slightly awkwardly.

"Yeah," Hermione said, echoing Draco's tone, "I'm going to go outside." She told him quickly, "I haven't seen the decorations out there, I should really check them out." She said.

The two looked at each other a moment longer, then at the same time took a deep breath, said "okay," briskly, and turned to leave the dance floor separate ways.

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**_A/N: So we got a tiny bit of Dramione at the end._**

**_The next chapter will be up in the New Year - I know it's a while away, but I'm going to be pretty busy over the Christmas time._**

**_Thanks again for reading, Hope you guys have a wonderful Christmas, and a Happy New Year._**

**_See you in 2013!_**

**_xBx_**


	16. Chapter 16: Denial

**_A/N: Wow! So sorry about the delay in getting this chapter out there! I've had a pretty hectic few weeks, and this just took ages to write - I've re-written it three times I think, but I'm finally happy with it, I hope you guys are too._  
**

**_Thank you to everyone who has read so far, and thanks for all my reviews, you guys are great!_**

**_xBx_**

* * *

**~ Chapter 16: Denial ~**

Draco made his way briskly to the refreshments, ignoring the curious glances and the whisperings as he passed. In retrospect, perhaps dragging Hermione to the dance floor hadn't been the best idea in the world. Now he was confronted with strange new emotions and feelings. Draco didn't do emotions and feelings. He had gotten so used to presenting a cold, calculating exterior over the past few years, so much so that the cold had travelled inwards, and for the past year he had been pretty much numb to his very core. And then he had decided to dance with Hermione Granger.

Draco grabbed himself a goblet of iced pumpkin juice from the table, still continuing his internal grumbling monologue, and was just turning to survey the room, when he felt a presence beside him. He recognised the voice at once as Dean Thomas, and this did not improve his internal grumbling – it was, after all, Thomas and his little Gryffindor entourage whom he had been intending to escape from when he had dragged Hermione unceremoniously to the dance floor, thus causing his current internal confusion.

"So," Thomas said with a feigned nonchalance as he grabbed himself a goblet. "You and Hermione." It wasn't a question, so much as an open statement, as if he was expecting Draco to voluntarily explain their situation.

"Would you care to expand, Thomas?" Draco drawled, "What exactly are you asking?"

Dean scowled, "Don't play dumb, we both know that is one thing you certainly are not." He warned.

Draco gave an exasperated sigh and turned his gaze on to the Gryffindor. "What do you want, Thomas?"

"You have a reputation, Malfoy." Dean said, bluntly, getting strait to his point. "Don't mess with her."

"And what makes you think I'm messing with Granger?" Draco asked, resigned, knowing full well he wasn't going to get rid of Dean until he had heard what Dean had to say – bloody self-righteous Gryffindors, they really were a giant thorn in Draco's side.

Dean raised a sceptical eyebrow, "We all saw the two of you out there," he said gesturing to the dance floor.

"Look, I don't want to know what's going on, I'm not a gossip, and whatever it is it's between you two. I know Hermione and I aren't the closest of friends, but we are still friends. And while Harry and Ron are out working for the Ministry, you should know Hermione is far from friendless here: Neville and I are only at the forefront of a whole tide of people looking out for her. So I'm warning you-"

"You're warning me?" Draco scoffed, "Are these words seriously coming out of your mouth?"

Dean wasn't the least bit phased at Draco's sudden antagonism, "Yes. Like I said, you have a reputation, and the last thing Hermione needs, especially so soon after the war, is someone like you messing with her emotions." Dean told him. "After the hell she went through last year-"

Again Draco interrupted him, "You don't need to tell me about what she went through, I know." Draco said quietly, unwillingly remembering _that_ night.

"Harry and Ron weren't the only ones locked away in your cellar that night Malfoy." Dean said quietly, "I heard her screams as well. So I'm warning you, I wont tolerate anyone, and especially not you, messing her around and breaking her heart."

Draco turned to face Dean, his expressionless mask had slipped and a quiet rage was pulsating from every fibre of his being. Dean seemed to sense he might have overstepped the mark, as he remained deadly still and silent as Draco spoke.

"You will never," He whispered, seething rage colouring his tone, "Speak to me of that night again. You may have heard her, Thomas, but I was there. I saw the entire thing: I was rooted to the spot; unable to do anything to help her, so I know _exactly_ what hell she has been through. I'm well aware of the reputation I used to have, but I can assure you that playing with Granger's heart is the last thing on my mind."

Draco slammed his goblet down and started to turn away, but he looked back at Dean, giving him one final warning, "As far as I'm concerned, we never had this conversation. You will not repeat it to anyone. And if I hear so much as a whisper from you, or anyone, about _that _night, I swear you will be in for a whirl of pain."

Draco stormed away from Dean, leaving him standing at the drinks table feeling slightly awkward, and made his way out into the coolness of the night. Thankfully, there weren't many people outside – most were still enjoying the music, and those who had come to seek the cooling fresh air were milling just inside the doors, completely distracted by the display put on by George Weasley and his assistant. Draco had to admit, it had been a particularly genius idea of Hermione's to talk George into doing his showcase; Draco hadn't been convinced at first, but it seemed to be going down a storm.

Just as Draco was coming through the doors, a figure stormed their way towards him from one of the pathways. When she stepped into the light flooding from the open doors he recognised Pansy Parkinson, with a face like thunder.

"You!" She snarled upon spotting Draco and recognising him.

Draco raised an eyebrow in question, wondering what on earth he had managed to do to piss her off this time.

"Your little bitch is crazy. Good luck with that." She told him, before storming back into the Great Hall without a backwards glance.

Draco had no idea what that was all about, or who his 'little bitch' was supposed to be, so he shrugged it off and decided to walk around the shrubbery that had been created that afternoon. There were a handful of pathways leading in different directions that wound around numerous rosebushes. In keeping with the tone of the evening, the bushes were full of black roses, and draped with spider webs. The pathways were lined with tiny carved out pumpkins, that were lit from inside by the glowing fairies who usually decorated the twelve giant Christmas Trees.

As Draco walked he began to contemplate his conversation with Dean Thomas. It was true that in the past few weeks he and Hermione had appeared to be getting along a lot better than ever before – why this was, no one really seemed to know. Draco just assumed the pair of them had grown up a lot, were putting the past behind them, and were simply being civil to make working, living and studying together that much easier.

But was there more to it? He had to admit, the more he spoke to Hermione, the more he was beginning to actually like her company: it was refreshing having someone to converse with who actually shared an intellectual capacity equal to his own. Hermione Granger really was incredibly intelligent, and unlike most people, her intelligence didn't excel in just one area. On the contrary, her knowledge was as wide and varied as it could possibly be, and there didn't seem to be a single subject she wasn't interested in – except divination, apparently. Draco had made the unfortunate mistake of bringing up fortune telling one evening and was treated to an hour-long rant of its failings. Unluckily for Draco, his love of playing the antagonist resulted in him countering her rant with reference to the Hall of Prophecy – _'If prophecies aren't legitimate, then why is the ministry recording them?' _he had asked. Yeah, that was also a big mistake. The next rant was even longer, even angrier, and Draco suspected Hermione had some reason to be rather bitter about prophecies. But he had refrained from picking at that particular thread, not wanting to endure a third rant.

Draco had been slowly getting lost in his musings over the brunette as he wound his way around the shrubbery. He was brought back into the present by the sound of splashing, which he presumed was coming from the apple bobbing well Hermione had come up with, accompanied by a peal of laughter that sounded vaguely familiar, and followed by a disgruntled voice that he certainly recognised.

"This is absolutely ridiculous. I reckon you've jinxed the apples, 'Mione, to make it impossible." Ginny ranted while Hermione laughed.

###

Hermione left the dance floor without looking back, purposefully making her way out into the shrubbery. The cool night air was blissful against her face: the combination of a crowded room, her heavy costume and near proximity to Draco Malfoy, along with the unnerving sensations it had produced, had left her feeling a little flushed.

Draco Malfoy had completely disarmed her when he had danced with her; quite literally he had swept her off her feet. And that was unnerving. Hermione Granger did not get 'swept off her feet'. No, she was a rational human being who used her head in every situation: the head provided logic, the heart provided trouble. But why was she worrying about her heart? Thinking with the heart implied emotions, feelings, and there were no _feelings_ in this situation. Obviously not – she certainly didn't harbour _Feelings_ for _Draco Malfoy_ - that was simply absurd. Wasn't it?

Hermione was spared from her dwelling when she heard footsteps approaching her from behind – rather loud and fast footsteps, as if someone was storming after her.

The instincts she had developed the past year took over: She clasped her hands gently together as she turned: the stance looked relaxed, but in less than a second she would be able to grab her wand hidden up her sleeve, should the occasion require it.

Pansy Parkinson, who was obviously livid about something, but who had a studied air of dangerous calm about her, faced her.

"Something wrong, Parkinson?" Hermione asked politely.

Pansy sneered, "Don't play dumb with me, Granger. You know exactly what I'm going to say to you."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow, still maintaining a deadly calm, not realising how much like her fellow head she appeared to be acting. Pansy, however, did notice and it did nothing to quell the temper raging inside her.

"While I am rather a brilliant scholar, and have a vast amount of knowledge," Hermione addressed Pansy with serenity, "I am unfortunately, not yet omniscient and I therefore do not have the pleasure of understanding you completely. Would you care to be more specific?"

"Stay away from Draco. I'm warning you. Stay away, or I will make you stay away." Pansy Threatened.

Hermione chuckled darkly, "Are you seriously threatening me, Parkinson? Firstly, I don't know what you're getting your back up for: there is nothing between Malfoy and I." Hermione clarified, but Pansy scoffed clearly not believing a word Hermione said.

Hermione continued: "Secondly: Threatening me is a dangerous move. You've warned me, now I will warn you. Come near me, try to attack me in any way, and you will be very sorry."

Pansy laughed manically, and then suddenly, as if to call Hermione's bluff, she lunged forward as if to strike Hermione across the face. Barely flinching, Hermione reacted in less than a second, grabbing Pansy's arm with her left hand, Hermione spun her around, pinned Pansy's arm painfully behind her back and pushed her up against the wall. At the same time Hermione's right hand pulled her wand from the hidden pocket in her sleeve and put the point to Pansy's neck.

Leaning close, Hermione whispered, "I gave you a friendly warning and now I'm reiterating it in a less than friendly way. You have no idea what I am capable of: Last year I went to hell and back, doing a job many fully qualified Wizards would quake and fail at; I fought my first battle against Death Eaters when I was fifteen, and I've had a lot of practice since then. So believe me when I say I can fight you, and end you, without a moment's hesitation. Maybe you should remember that the next time you decide to come at me." She warned dangerously.

Letting her words sink in, Hermione held Pansy for a second longer before releasing her grip. Pansy turned immediately and stormed away, with a face like thunder. Hermione sighed and turned back to follow the pathway, she had a feeling she was going to regret that outburst at a later date – Merlin, what was wrong with her emotions this evening? It was all Draco Malfoy's fault: he had broken through her calm mask somehow, and now she couldn't seem to quell any emotion at all.

"There you are!" Ginny called, bringing Hermione out of her reverie as the redhead joined the path from another walkway. "I've been looking for you." She declared, taking Hermione's arm and falling instep with her.

"So, you and Draco Malfoy. What's going on there?" Ginny asked abruptly getting right to her point.

Hermione gave her a withering look, "Absolutely nothing." She told Ginny.

Ginny snorted, clearly not believing a word. And Hermione had to wonder, was she being entirely truthful with Ginny? Was she being entirely truthful with herself?

"Come on, Hermione. The way you were dancing, it didn't look like nothing." Ginny said, as they came to a small clearing in the black rose bushes, with stone benches running around the edge, at the centre of which was a large well.

Ginny took a seat on one of the benches, pulling Hermione down next to her.

"I saw the way you were looking at each other." Ginny reiterated. "Come one, you can tell me. Explain everything. I want the gossip, please."

"It's his fault he started it." Hermione grumbled, not knowing what else to say, causing Ginny to laugh.

"It's true!" Hermione defended, "He dragged me to dance, I didn't have a chance to object, then the music changed, and he started leading. It got beyond my control." She finished lamely.

Ginny didn't say a word, but looked at Hermione pointedly, silently telling her to continue.

Hermione sighed, "We were talking, and I made the mistake of looking him in the eye, then I just couldn't look away." She admitted quietly.

"You like him, don't you?" Ginny asked with a grin.

"No," Hermione started, but faltered under Ginny's disbelieving gaze, "I don't know. I don't _dislike_ him. But there is nothing going on, whatsoever." She assured the redhead.

"Fine, whatever you say." Ginny shrugged, clearly not believing Hermione completely.

Hermione frowned, "It's the truth. Why would I lie to you, Gin?"

Ginny sighed, "Fine. But when something happens, I am the first to know." She clarified, and then said: "Apple bobbing – fancy a challenge?"

Hermione laughed, grateful for the change of subject, "It won't be much of a challenge, I'm sure I can beat you."

"Oh-ho, challenge accepted." Ginny said as she left her seat and walked to the well, Hermione following a step behind.

She leant over the edge of the well with her hands holding back the inconvenient wig she was wearing, from the water.

Five minutes later Ginny still hadn't managed to successfully retrieve an apple and she was getting somewhat frustrated. After a particularly dismal attempt Hermione gave yet another peal of laughter and clutched her sides that were beginning to ache from the constant giggles.

"This is absolutely ridiculous. I reckon you've jinxed the apples, 'Mione, to make it impossible." Ginny ranted while Hermione laughed.

"It's not impossible, Ginny." Hermione laughed, "I swear I haven't jinxed them, watch." She said, moving to the side of the well.

She held the French hood in place with one hand, while other clutched at the fabric draping down the back of her head, to stop it falling in the water, and put her face into the well. She drew up a moment later, water running from face, a ruby red apple clutched between her teeth and a triumphant smile on her face.

Ginny looked less than impressed, as Hermione took the apple in one hand, taking a satisfying bite out of it before bringing it away from her mouth.

"See," she said, after swallowing her bite, "Easy."

Before Ginny could answer, they were interrupted by a chuckle, and Draco Malfoy approached them from one of the walks.

"Having fun?" He smirked.

Hermione's mouth went dry and her heart rate accelerated a fraction: she hoped to god he hadn't been lurking around all this time; she thought she might die if he had heard her previous conversation with Ginny.

"You know, it's not polite to sneak up on people." Hermione joked, regaining composure quickly.

"I'm hardly sneaking Granger, I was wondering around the shrubbery and I heard the splashing and laughter, then Weaselette complaining about jinxed apples." Draco shrugged, "I thought I'd come and see what all the fuss is about."

"Apple Bobbing." Ginny explained with a growl, then said: "Have a go. But I swear, if you succeed without a decent amount of frustrating tries I will hex you."

Draco laughed at the threat, but walked over to the well, "Come on, Weaselette, it can't be that difficult, you're just not trying hard enough." He goaded before leaning over and attempting to retrieve an apple. He didn't succeed quite as quick as Hermione did, but it was quick enough to infuriate Ginny.

"That's just ridiculous," she ranted, "Bloody stupid apples." She muttered, before turning and walking back to the castle.

The remainder of the evening continued on as successfully as it had started. Hermione and Draco were careful to leave a fair amount of distance between each other, both deciding to ignore the invisible barrier they seemed to have crossed, and continuing on as if nothing at all had happened. It was only at the end of evening, as the rest of school were filtering out of the Hall and back to their respective common rooms (with the exception of a handful of people who were now sneaking their way to the Heads Tower, where Ginny and Blaise would let them in) that Hermione and Draco came together again.

They were two of the last students in the hall, making sure no younger student was left straggling behind and out of bounds, while Luna and Zacharias were out in the entrance hall, chivvying students back to their dormitories, and as the last student left the hall, they were sought out by the Ministry representative form Kingsley Shacklebolt's office.

"Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy." He greeted as he walked up to them, "My name is Paisley, Walter Paisley. It's a pity I didn't get to speak to you both earlier. This was a very successful evening," he congratulated them.

"Thank you, sir." Hermione smiled, shaking hands with him. "But we really can't take all the credit. It was the prefects who came up with the initial idea. And the entire night was a complete team effort."

Walter smiled, "How very modest of you. But you must have had excellent managing skills to pull off this spectacle."

Hermione smiled at the commendation, "I had excellent help. Did you enjoy your evening?"

"I did. I've spoken to a lot of the students, their costumes were quite remarkable, and they seem to have learnt a lot about Muggle history in their preparations for this evening. I'm glad I caught you before you left." He said, reaching into his robes and pulling out an envelope.

"The Minister asked if I could pass this along to you, this evening." Walter said, handing the letter to her.

"Thank you." Hermione smiled, taking the envelope. Walter nodded, took his leave and disappeared to rejoin the group of teachers he had previously left.

"You correspond with the Minister?" Draco asked, bringing Hermione's attention away from the letter and back into the present.

Hermione frowned, and began to walk out of hall, "One letter hardly counts as a correspondence." She countered to Draco who had automatically followed.

Draco shrugged, as they ascended the staircase, not bothering to question any further as it was really none of his business. Hermione embraced the silence, breaking the seal of the envelope and reading it's contents. The letter was hastily written, but not impatient:

_Hermione - _It began, and Hermione couldn't help but smile at such in informal greeting – something one would expect from a good friend, not the Minister for Magic. Which, incidentally, was exactly how Hermione viewed Kingsley.

_I won't waste your time, or mine, with the customary preamble expected from correspondence – I would get straight to the information you desire. As, I dare say, you know (even though such information is classified), Harry is heading a group of Aurors in Finland, Ron among them. So far, the operation has been going to plan –_ Hermione frowned, 'had been'? – _Two members of the team returned to the Ministry a week ago with three of the Death Eaters. Harry, Ron and two others remained to follow another lead. The last I heard they were making their way East, into Russia. The two Aurors who accompanied them returned this morning, with another Death Eater. But Harry and Ron did not accompany them. _

_Now, Hermione, I don't want you to worry-_ Immediately, Hermione stopped walking and paled – what better way to make her worry! – _The group were accidentally split up; we have been unable to contact Harry or Ron, but the Aurors they were with said they were in perfect health when they got separated. There is no reason to suspect foul play. After everything Harry, Ron and yourself faced last year I have no hesitation in believing they are perfectly fine, and will return to the ministry as soon as they make the arrest they set out to make. The rest of their team will be returning to Russia this afternoon to search for, and join them. _

_ You must not stress too much, this thing is a very common occurrence in the Auror office, but I will keep you posted when I hear anything. I will give this to Paisley as he will have opportunity to hand this to you in the course of evening.._

_ All the best,_

_ Kingsley._

Hermione stared at the parchment, trying to take comfort from Kingsley's lack of worry.

"Are you coming, Granger?" Hermione looked up, she had come to a stop at the end of the corridor leading to their tower. Draco was stood in front of the large painting, which he had obviously just given the password to as he was holding it open. He frowned taking in her sudden change in appearance.

Upon seeing his frown, Hermione immediately composed herself, and replaced her shocked concern with a serene smile of nonchalance. She walked over, giving an apology, as she entered the tower.

The others were there waiting, gathered around the fire, already drinking and snacking on a large bowl of chips with a selection of dips – clearly Ginny and Blaise had made themselves right at home, as if they were the hosts.

A selection of large comfy beanbags had been conjured, on which Neville, Dean, Parvati, Padma, Luna and a Slytherin girl were lounging. Hermione recognised the Slytherin by sight, but didn't know her by name. Ginny was sat on one side of the couch; Blaise on the other side, with Theodore Nott perched on the arm.

"I see you found our provisions." Hermione frowned as she moved around the couch to take the vacant chair furthest from the door, opposite the chair into which Draco had just dropped. She folded the letter as she went, putting it into her corset, out of the way.

Ginny grinned as Hermione sat, "I figured we may as well give you a hand, and get things out for you, save you a job when you finally made it. And what's that you just shoved down your cleavage, by the way?"

Hermione frowned, "It's down the corset, not my cleavage." She scolded, "And it's just a letter, from Kingsley." She sad, shrugging it off.

Ginny laughed, and shook her head, "You really like your high profile correspondence, don't you?" She joked, at which a majority of the group laughed. "First Victor Krum, now Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"Kingsley Shacklebolt?" The unknown Slytherin asked, "The Minister of Magic?"

Hermione nodded, and then said, "I'm sorry, we haven't been properly introduced. Hermione Granger." She said leaning forward and holding out her hand across the coffee table. The Girl smiled and shook the offered hand.

"Emerald River." She introduced herself. "But call me Emmy. I'm in Ginny's year, which is why we've never crossed paths before." She explained.

The group fell back into effortless discussion, which became more free and uninhibited as Draco's Firewhiskey was consumed. After half an hour Hermione disappeared for ten minutes to change into something far more comfortable. When she returned, wearing her favourite pair of jeans and a close fitting t-shirt. Theo, who hadn't spoken much, addressed her.

"You know, I have to say, Granger, I never expected you to suggest something so blatantly against the rules."

Hermione tried not to look too offended, "I'm not that bad with rules." She defended as she retook her seat and Draco shot her a disbelieving glare. Dean, Neville and the Patil twins chuckled quietly, while Ginny let out a derisive snort and laughed quite loud.

"Am I?" Hermione asked them. When none of the answered but continued to giggle, Hermione defended herself again, frowning at Ginny in particular.

"I don't know how you can accuse me of being so uptight with rules, especially with the amount you know I've broken."

"Go on then," Blaise goaded, clearly disbelieving her. "Enlighten us, Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes. Just what rules have you broken?"

"Nearly every bloody school rule there is. I broke the law a fair few times as well. Which I'm sure you're all aware of." She frowned.

"Last year doesn't count. You were on the run from a corrupt ministry." Dean pointed out. But Ginny frowned.

"Actually, she has a point. She's been breaking the law long before that." Ginny said, earning sceptical looks, causing her to add: "Come on, a couple of years ago? We broke our way into the Department of Mysteries, it was all over the Prophet." Ginny reminded them and comprehension dawned on the group.

"Yeah," said Neville, slowly. "Come to think of it, you are actually a little bit hypocritical with the rules, 'Mione. I mean you were pretty much breaking the rules from day one."

"I didn't mean to! I was forever trying to dissuade Harry and Ron from rule breaking – but unfortunately, it's a bit of a habit with them, and even more unfortunately our rule breaking always seemed like the best and right thing to do at the time. But in our defence, there was always a good reason - we did these things to help people." Hermione defended herself, which earned her some laughs and a few headshakes.

"Come on then, Granger." Blaise provoked, "Enlighten us as to whom could possibly benefit from your rule breaking."

"Hagrid, for starters." Hermione said promptly, "He'd have been in real trouble our first year, if Harry and I hadn't helped smuggle Norbert out of the castle in the middle of the night." She told them, continuing without missing a heartbeat.

"Then in second year, through a series of long, drawn out events, we cleared his name and proved his innocence. And then in our third year, we helped Buckbeak, an innocent hippogriff, who also happened to be Hagrid's favourite, escape his wronged execution. Which incidentally would be my first bout of law-breaking, as I also helped Sirius Black elude capture, as well as using a Time-Turner to change the past." Hermione didn't intend on saying all this, but the Firewhiskey had loosened her tongue and she just couldn't stop herself. She bit her lip, realising how much she had said, as the others began to question her.

"Norbert?" Ginny quizzed, at the same time that Neville asked: "Sirius Black?" and Emmy said with awe: "A Time Turner?"

"And this was third year?" Draco asked shrewdly, after everyone else, before Hermione could answer the others.

Hermione nodded to Draco, a sly grin making it's way onto her face as she remembered the reason for Buckbeak's sentence, causing Draco to scowl.

Before he continued, Hermione addressed the others in turn, addressing Neville first.

"We met Sirius that year he escaped, we discovered his innocence and became invested in his well-being." She said quickly, and then turned to Ginny.

"Norbert was a Norwegian Ridgeback." She said with an exasperated sigh, "Hagrid's pet dragon he hatched in his hut. Don't ask." She said, seeing a few mouths open as if to speak. She then turned to Emmy and told her,

"I was given a time-tuner in my third year, so I would be able to get to all my classes – I had a pretty full timetable. I wasn't supposed to use it for anything but my studies…" she trailed off, embarrassedly.

"So the Hippogriff you stole and set free?" Draco said, speaking at last and clearly annoyed, "That would be the one that tried to kill me?"

Hermione scowled at him, "Don't be so melodramatic, it did not try to kill you-"

"Did you not see it attack me?" He countered, angrily.

"And who's fault was that?" Hermione snapped back at him, losing her patience quickly.

"It was your own bloody fault, you didn't listen to Hagrid. The first thing he told us was that Hippogriffs were incredibly proud. He clearly warned us that if we insulted one, it might well be the last thing we did. And what did you do? You insulted him. That injury was self-inflicted by your own stupidity! And Madam Pomfrey fixed you in a heartbeat, you were just being a drama queen, trying to get Hagrid sacked." She added.

The room was suddenly very quiet; Hermione knew she was probably the first person to have spoken to Draco in such a way in front of his peers, and Hermione felt slightly satisfied. Taking out her frustrations on Draco had alleviated a tiny bit of the stress and anxiety that had been building up since reading Kingsley's letter.

Draco scowled: "Maybe I did exploit the situation a little bit," He conceded grudgingly, and then adding defensively. "But that animal was dangerous."

Hermione laughed, "Ridiculous. Buckbeak is friendly and sweet. I've been in close range of him plenty of times since then, and I've never seen him so much as give a threatening glare to a single soul."

"Hmph, well I bet if he was to return to Hogwarts there would be a repeat experience." Draco countered, at which Hermione laughed again.

"Buckbeak returned two years ago. In fact, he was used in one of Hagrid's lessons just the other week, and a student rode him." She said triumphantly.

Draco stared at her, not knowing what to say, he leant back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. "Insufferable know it all." He muttered, though it was loud enough for Hermione to hear.

"Arrogant Arse." Hermione scoffed in turn, and the pair lapsed into silence.

"Moving on," Neville interjected, breaking the silence and changing the subject.

"Lets play a game" Suggested Parvati, "Truth or Dare? Or I Never?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, seriously regretting her earlier bout of sudden rebellion, "Seriously? What are we, thirteen?"

"Come on Hermione, it might be a laugh" Said Dean, "And what's wrong with having a bit of fun? After the year we've had, it's not wrong to be immature for a little be." He said. "We had to grow up quick, but the wars over now. Time to relax."

"The war may be over, but there are battles still being fought!" Hermione retorted, and before she knew it she was ranting again. "Voldemort may be gone, but many of his Death Eaters are still eluding capture. And what are we doing? Sat around playing drinking games!"

"We can't exactly do anything holed up in Hogwarts." Neville said,

"I shouldn't have come back." Hermione stated, "I should be at the Ministry, I could have taken an internship. At least then I would have been there, I wouldn't be feeling so bloody useless!"

Ginny frowned, "Hermione, what… ?"

Hermione pulled herself together. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean… It's nothing…" She sighed, "I'm just tired. I need sleep. I'm going to bed." She said, standing up.

"Yeah," Ginny said slowly, looking at the others, "It's getting late, we should head back to our common rooms."

There was a general murmur of agreement, and every stood to leave. Within ten minutes the room was now empty except for the two Heads. Hermione moved into the kitchen, carrying empty goblets and mugs. Silently Draco followed, carrying a couple of bowls.

"Alright Granger. Spill." He told her as he placed down the bowls.

Hermione looked at him, shocked, "What do you mean?"

"That little outburst just now. Not to mention you've been off all evening, not your usual annoyingly-Gryffindor centre-of-the-party self. It's got something to do with the letter, hasn't it? You went pale when you read it and you've been quiet and distant since." Draco said, and Hermione was shocked that he would have noticed the difference in her, especially when it appeared that nobody else had.

Draco sighed, "You're only going to fret about it, if you don't talk about it, which means you're not going to sleep. Which, in turn, means that tomorrow you will be near useless, which will be bad, because we have that painful Arithmancy assignment to do ready for Monday, and I will probably need your help at some point."

It wasn't as though Draco was concerned for her well-being, or anything. Merlin no, he just wanted her brain to be working at top level to assist him later on, that was all. He was not concerned about Granger, he told himself, as concern would indicate feelings. And Malfoys don't have feelings.

Hermione looked at him and sighed, "Harry and Ron are missing. They've been trying to bring in the Death Eaters, based on your father's information and now their MIA." She admitted, and even just speaking the words, she felt a weight lift her shoulders. After a moment, Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well, I think 'wondered off' is more of an accurate surmise of their actions." She began to rant, again. "Kingsley said not to worry, apparently these things happen. Aurors sometimes go AWOL for a few days, unable to make contact because it could jeopardise the mission or something. But I can't help it of course I worry. It's the first time they've gone off to do something like this without me there with them. I don't like being left behind."

"But that was your choice, you returned here." Draco pointed out, not unkindly.

"I know." Hermione whined in defeat. "I was offered a position as an Auror, but I turned it down, it's not what I want as a career. But, even just being here, instead of at the Ministry, where I could have been…" she trailed off and shrugged, "I don't know, I just feel more cut off up here. And I can't help but worry."

Draco took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, shaking his head, not believing what he was about to say, "Potter and Weasley are more than capable of looking after themselves." He assured her, "I've seen what they're capable of, and you probably know better then anyone what they're capable of doing."

"I know, but unfortunately it's that knowledge that worries me." She admitted, "I've seen first hand just what kind of trouble they can easily get into, and it's usually me that gets us out."

Draco sighed, and reaching out a hand he gave Hermione's arm a reassuring squeeze. "Look, if the Minister isn't worried, you shouldn't be either."

Hermione smiled at the reassurance, "I know, you're right." she admitted. There was an awkward moment, as the pair realised the slightly intimate position they had found themselves. Draco let his arm drop back down to his side.

"I'm going to bed." He said abruptly, turning and leaving Hermione to her thoughts.

###

As they moved further into November the weather, which had held out surprisingly well through October, took a definite turn. Rain pummelled the castle day after day, and icy drafts swept through the castle forcing everyone to start wearing scarves as they moved around the corridors. The Quidditch season was now fully under way, the first game of season saw Slytherin narrowly beat Gryffindor, which lead to a rather tense atmosphere in the head's tower for a couple of weeks – neither Hermione nor Draco was particularly ruffled by the score, but whenever Blaise and Ginny joined them the tension was palpable.

Neville also began to spend more time in the Head's tower – he used to spend most of his time in the Library studying, but after asking Hermione's help on one particularly difficult assignment, he became as permanent a fixture as Ginny had become. Not wanting to be outnumbered by Gryffindors, it wasn't long before invited Emmy to join the little study group, who started spending more time in the tower likewise – though she ended up spending more time studying with the Gryffindors, than with Blaise and Draco.

After the excitement of Hallowe'en, Hermione and Draco fell comfortably back into their separate routines, both adamant that no change should occur as a result of their unexpected proximity when they danced. What they failed to realise was that Blaise and Ginny were closely watching them; both were more and more frequently pulling Draco and Hermione out of deep reveries, during which their eyes had often unconsciously wandered to the other.

Halfway through November, another Hogsmeade trip was scheduled, and as promised Hermione took it upon herself to take the first shift of the prefects' duty, on which Ginny kindly offered to accompany her.

Hermione had kept up a regular correspondence with Andromeda since her return to Hogwarts, and since Harry and Ron were still overseas, Andromeda had suggested that she could meet Hermione for a couple of hours this time around, bringing Teddy along.

Hermione's initial anxiety over Harry and Ron had been short lived: a few days into November they had returned to the Ministry with another Death Eater in tow, just as Kingsley had told her they would. Unfortunately there were still a few more eluding capture, so they – along with the rest of their team – had headed back out into the field, this time travelling to Romania, within a week of their return (though not without sending an owl to Hermione apologising for making her worry, and telling her they were perfectly fine).

But, Harry and Ron being who they are, they were in the field only four days before they did it again. They had once again wondered off on their own, the rest of team returning to the ministry with a new captive and no idea where the pair had gone.

Hermione had received another letter from Kingsley last night, this one considerably shorter, clearly exasperated, and merely reading:

_Hermione,_

_ Your boys have done it again. Don't worry, I'm sure they are fine. But when they return, and you see them again can you please give them a piece of your mind. From what I have witnessed in the past, you appear to be the only one they really listen to._

_ I'll let you know when they return,_

_ Kingsley_

Hermione had been less worried this time, and more exasperated at the fact that they were clearly flouting authority so early in their Ministry careers.

"I can't stay with you too long, once Andie arrives." Ginny said to Hermione as the pair sat down with coffees in The Three Broomsticks. The place was almost empty, the only other customers were guests who had spent the night and were now having breakfast.

"Why?" Hermione asked, taking a sip from her cappuccino.

"I have a date." Ginny answered simply. "But you are not to mention this to my brother." She warned, "Ron will go off on one, I'm sure."

"Couldn't if I wanted to." Hermione sighed, remembering the letter. "So you and Blaise are dating, then?" She asked.

"How did you know it was Blaise?" Ginny frowned.

Hermione snorted, "Ginny, please. I'm surprised you haven't pounced on him already. The flirting was getting out of control, you spend every night with him in our tower, you're not exactly subtle." She told her, adding with a smirk, "Neville, Emmy and I have often discussed it while you were too busy."

Ginny scowled for a moment, and the said: "Well, at least we aren't in denial."

Hermione frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, "It's clear you and Malfoy are attracted to each other. But for some reason neither of you is acting on it. I don't get it. And don't deny it," Ginny said, raising her voice as Hermione looked set to contradict Ginny's statement. "I've seen you looking at him."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine, I think he's attractive." She said, rather reluctantly, colour rising in her cheeks.

"Happy now? But it's not like I've never admitted that before. I believe we've discussed his appeal on previous occasions – we both agreed he was one of the most attractive males at the school. He was just an arrogant arse, with the most repulsive personality." Hermione reminded her.

Ginny laughed, "Yeah, but that was then, and this is now. You certainly don't find his personality repulsive anymore, do you?" she challenged.

"No, I don't" Hermione admitted, "But I still think he's an arrogant arse." She said, bringing the conversation to a close.

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_**A/N: The next chapter will definitely be up a lot quicker than this one, and the one after will be pretty quick also, as I've already written a few of them, they just need some serious editing as I wrote them a while ago.**_

_**Thanks again for reading, if you feel like reviewing then please do. **_

_**xBx**_


	17. Chapter 17: Acceptance

**_A/N: A bit of a speedy update, I already had half of this chapter written a while back, which made it a lot easier. _**

**_Thank you so much to my reviews for the last chapter, you guys are fantastic, and your support is amazing! I love how much you are enjoying this story, and I can't wait to update again._  
**

**_I hope you all like the next chapter_**

**_xBx_**

* * *

**~ Chapter 17: Acceptance ~**

November disappeared in a haze of stormy weather; extra torches and fires were lit throughout the castle to keep students warm and visible, as it was so dark it felt like they were suddenly studying in the dead of night. The weather, however, did nothing to dampen the spirits of Quidditch players and supporters alike: a full crowd attended every match, and every team continued to practice in good spirits despite the fact they returned from practice looking like they had been training in the lake as opposed to the air – as you can imagine, this only worsened Filch's mood, which was never happy to begin with.

Draco and Hermione continued their blissful routine centred around their denial, much to the annoyance of Blaise and Ginny, who discussed their friends' state of self-inflicted ignorance whenever they could tear their lips and bodies away from one an other. Their date in Hogsmeade had been incredibly successful, and certain unused classrooms were now being put to very good use indeed.

Lessons continued to be as demanding as ever, their workload seemed never ending and with Head Girl duties on top of everything else, Hermione sincerely wished she had stolen a Time Turner when she had the chance.

A few days into December the rain desisted, the clouds parted and a weak sun shone down over the castle and grounds now covered in a delicate layer of sparkling frost, the lake was covered in a thin layer of ice, and Christmas was in the air.

Neville spent his first days away from the Head's tower in months, to help Professor Sprout insulate the various magical plants, protecting them from the current frost and the impending snow that Hermione swore she could smell on the air.

At the same time, Ginny and Blaise and the other Quidditch captains had volunteered to help Madam Hooch de-ice the school brooms, which were still being used by the first years for their flying lessons – something else which the four Quidditch captains were assisting with.

Which left Hermione, Draco and Emmy to study alone, working on a recent Potions essays: "Describe in minute detail the correct composition of The Polyjuice Potion, including it's colours, scents and textures at various stages of the process."

Having successfully brewed it back in her second year, Hermione had no trouble finishing the essay in relative expediency. So while the other two continued to struggle through, Hermione took the opportunity to decorate the tower, feeling extra festive this year.

Hermione had summoned a branch up through the tower window, transfigured and enlarged it, so that a beautiful Christmas tree stood in the corner, which she was currently decorating with holly and mistletoe, sparkling gold and silver beads and bright baubles in gold, red and green. A contented smile graced her lips and she started singing '_Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow_' to herself. Completely unaware of what she was doing, her voice carried a little louder as she lost herself in her task.

Draco looked up from the copy of _Moste Potente Potions_ that he had taken from the library earlier as he heard Hermione sing. He was about to comment on distracting him, but upon seeing her, he laid his quill down and leant back in his chair with his arms crossed, watching her work with a small smile on his lips. He didn't think he'd ever seen her so content.

He was brought out of his reverie but a derisive snort. He turned to look at Emmy, who was evidently trying not to laugh out loud.

"What was that charming sound for?" he drawled.

Emmy shook her head, "Will you just admit it already? You are falling hard. I've never seen you look at anyone the way you look at her."

"I don't know what-" Draco started to say, but was cut off when Emmy held up her hand.

"Save it. I know you two have a history as enemies, I know it's a weird idea, you two ever being together and I'm not saying, 'go over there and ask her out on a date'. Just admit you like her, stop with the denial, and see where it takes you." Emmy told him.

Draco looked at her intently, intending to deny, but he just couldn't seem to form the words. Instead he looked back at Hermione for a moment, who was now singing '_Have a Holly Jolly Christmas_'.

Draco sighed, "Fine. I like her, we've never been friends before now, but 'friends' just doesn't seem to fit what we are. But it's complicated." He said turning back to Emmy, who frowned.

"Complicated how? You like her, she likes you, I'm sure of it."

"Doesn't matter, it's still complicated. There are….certain circumstances…" Draco trailed off and Emmy looked far les than impressed.

"If you are going to use your past, or your parents as an excuse-" she started to reprimand, but Draco cut her short.

"No. Not at all, it's nothing to do with them." He assured her, but he pressed on before Emmy could question further, "It's a long story, and it's not mine to tell."

The pair was silent for a moment, Emmy frowning, when Hermione noticed they had stopped writing.

"If you guys have finally finished, you can help me decorate." Hermione called over.

The two Slytherins looked over to Hermione, who smiled at them.

"To be completely honest, I'm not exactly the most festive person." Emmy admitted

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, "Me either, usually. But I'm making up for last year." She said.

"Why? What happened?" Emmy asked, intrigued.

"We didn't even realise the time of year. Being on the run, we lost track of the days. we didn't know it was Christmas time until we were in Godric's Hollow and we heard the carools in the Church, we realised then in was Christmas Eve."

"You spent Christmas in Godric's Hollow?" Draco asked, "A bit risky wasn't it, for someone on the run?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time, it felt like our only option. It turned out to be the most stupid idea we could ever have come up with, and it certainly put a dampener on the holiday season." Hermione said dryly. Draco and Emmy stared at her, inviting her silently to continue and explain.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "After disapperating in mid-air following our jump through a second-storey window in an attempt to escape Voldemort and his snake, neither Harry nor I were in a particularly festive mood." Hermione finished.

Both Slytherins stared at Hermione for a moment, then finally Emmy spoke.

"Are you being pedantic, or did that seriously happen?" she asked.

"It happened." Hermione sighed, "And disapperating in mid-air is not easy. Harry and I were splinched in the process - not fun."

Draco frowned, "What about Weasley?" he asked.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"You mentioned Potter, but you haven't said a word about Weasley. where was he when this happened?"

Hermione bit her lip, "He wasn't with us. He... went his own way for a while." Hermione finished quietly, but Draco understood.

"He abandoned you. Seriously?" Draco shook his head in contempt, but Hermione didn't respond, not wanting to discuss it at all.

"How are your essays coming?" Hermione asked, changing the subject.

Both Slytherins looked back at their parchments with a sigh.

"How did you finish yours so quickly?" Emmy asked, "And where did you get all your information about colours and consistency?"

Hermione shrugged, "I brewed it a while back, and I have a good memory." She said.

"When and why?" Asked Draco shrewdly, and Hermione couldn't help but blush a little at the memory.

"Now, what you have to understand is that when Harry and Ron get an idea, they can be very persuasive." She started, "They wanted to question who they suspected was the Heir of Slytherin. But obviously, a Slytherin wouldn't just come out and tell some Gryffindors he's the one opening the Chamber and Secrets and setting a monster loose on the Muggleborns- " Hermione jabbered, but Draco interrupted.

"Chamber of Secrets? But that was our second year that it was opened. Are you saying you brewed this in second year?" He clarified.

"Yeah, in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom." She laughed, shaking her head in nostalgia. "Our reasoning was good at the time. How we never got found out I don't know. But it worked. Harry and Ron turned into Cr- erm, the two Slytherins they wanted to. Spoke to whom they wanted to, got the answer to their question, without raising any suspicions. Very successful on their side, not so much on mine." she finished with a chuckle.

"Why?" Emmy asked, intrigued, "And who did they turn into?"

"Doesn't matter about mine, no lasting damage. But I don't think I should say who Harry and Ron turned into." Hermione said, not meeting Draco's eye and trying not to laugh.

"Oh, please enlighten us," drawled Draco with a frown. "I'd like to know which idiot didn't realise his friends were actually Gryffindors in disguise. They didn't get into our common room did they?" He asked suddenly.

Hermione let out a giggle, and then brought her hand to her mouth, as if to stop a full laugh escaping.

"Oh yes, the 'idiot' – as you call him, please remember, that was your word, not mine – lead them right through the wall, into your common room under the lake." Hermione said.

"Who?" Draco asked again, clearly not happy.

"Harry and Ron turned into Crabbe and Goyle." Hermione said with a grin, waiting for the penny to drop. Draco frowned, then paled as comprehension dawned.

Hermione laughed as Emmy smirked: "So you're the idiot that didn't notice his friends were actually Gryffindors in disguise?" She clarified mockingly.

"I feel violated." Draco mumbled, while the girls continued to laugh.

###

The next weekend saw the first snow begin to fall over Hogwarts, and the castle was decorated to it's usual standard. Hagrid brought the usual twelve giant Christmas trees, and Hermione and Draco, with a selection of prefects, were overseeing the decorating of the Great Hall. The remaining Prefects were pulling extra duties in Hogsmeade, as that weekend was also the last trip before Christmas Break.

On Monday morning, Hermione was sat at the Gryffindor table with her usual crowd, when a scroll appeared in front of her. Hermione looked up at the others, confusion etched on her forehead, and noticed that Ginny and Neville had one too.

"What the-?" Neville asked.

"No idea." Ginny said, looking equally confused.

Hermione shrugged and picked up her scroll, "Only one way to find out," she said, unrolling the parchment to reveal an invitation to Professor Slughorn's annual Christmas party, which would be held on the final Friday of term.

"Annual?" Hermione asked, "He did it last year as well?"

Ginny shook her head, "No, but last year wasn't exactly festive."

"How come I got one?" Neville asked, "He never gave me any invites the other year."

"You were leading the resistance here last year," Ginny said, "You had the nerve to piss of a lot of Death Eaters to their face, you've turned into a bit of a legend, Neville. Time to reap the rewards." She told him dryly.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at her tone, and then added, "Make the most of it Nev. And you Gin, no doubt there'll be a few famous faces like last time, you should try and get cosy with Gwenog Jones, see if you sing a try-out. I wonder who else got an invite?" She mused, before turning back to her breakfast, just as the owls delivered the morning post.

Despite the festive atmosphere now sweeping infectiously through the corridors, all seventh and fifth years we're kept with their noses close to the grindstone, working well into the night and an indecent amount of time on weekends. On the Monday of the final week of term, the usual list was sent around the house tables to be signed by those remaining at Hogwarts over the Holidays. Hermione passed the list along without looking at it, sighing internally, secretly wishing she could remain at the castle in the little bubble she had been living in for the past few months – a blissful bubble where her fiancé didn't exist.

Hermione retreated to her bedroom that evening, not feeling particularly social, and for the first time since the train journey on September 1st she dug out the box containing her engagement ring and went into her sitting room. She stood for a moment gazing at the fire, then grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and went out onto the balcony. The first snow of December had only lasted a couple of days, but as she stepped out into the cold, a handful of large flakes began to fall.

Hermione took a seat, and placed the box on the table in front of her lifting the lid to reveal the large ring inside. How long she sat there, simply staring in contemplative silence, wrapped in her blanket, she did not know. It was strange, that three months had gone by since she had last worn it. Three months was a long time, and in that time she had hardly thought of Richard - the exception being when his name had been mentioned in the god-awful article, and just before Halloween when she had overheard his conversation with Melissa.

Aside from those instances, Richard had never entered her mind, and she had been quite happy. She had been studying, she had been with friends, it had been blissfully normal - even Harry and Ron were still managing to exasperate her from their distance, just like old times. But suddenly, the Christmas break was almost upon her, and anxiety filled her stomach - that wasn't normal. Her studies were supposed to invoke stress, while returning home was supposed to fill her with happiness. instead it seemed her studies and being at Hogwarts was what made her happy, while the prospect of returning home caused her stress.

Hermione was roused by a knock at her door, and looking up she noticed the snow was now falling think and fast.

"Come in!" She called, pulling the blanket tighter around her; she heard the door creak open, and Draco's voice called back through the sitting room.

"Where are you?" He asked, seeming slightly confused at her lack of bodily presence.

"Outside, on the balcony." Hermione called back, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Are you crazy woman?" He said as he stepped out, and took the seat opposite her without invitation, "it's freezing."

"Hence the warm blanket," she replied. "Anything you want in particular?"

"Not really. I haven't seen you since dinner, and your little entourage is nowhere to be seen. It seems I've gotten used to the crowd, and now it seems unnervingly quiet down there." Draco said, with a shrug. "Are you going home for the holidays?" he asked.

"Of course. No getting out of it this year," Hermione sighed, picking the ring from its box as she spoke, and placing it on her ring finger with another sigh.

"I suppose I should get used to wearing it again," Hermione said, at which Draco frowned.

"Seriously?" Draco asked, "Even after he slept with another woman while he was meant to be engaged to you?" He said incredulously.

Hermione shrugged, and laughed humourlessly, "No one knows about that: he doesn't know I know, so I'm going to have to feign ignorance aren't I? I can't exactly confront him, can I? Not when I was supposed to be in Scotland when that conversation was had – how am I supposed to explain how I know? That I heard?" Hermione asked.

"You know what I don't understand?" Draco changed tack, having no response to that.

"I'd wager a lot of things, but please continue." Hermione said with a grin.

Draco chuckled at the jibe, but chose not to retaliate, and continued, "You're a Gryffindor, where's your courage? You don't want to marry this guy, so don't," He said, as if it was the simplest solution in the world.

"It's not that simple, not with my family anyway." She looked at him thoughtfully, and then decided to continue "Look, you're from a high status family, with your money and connections I bet your parents have already picked out a suitable fiancé for you."

"What has that got to do with anything? But to answer your question, yes they did. But I broke it off. After everything that happened this year, I wanted to separate myself form my past as much as possible, start afresh. I flatly refused to continue the engagement." Draco told her, in honesty.

"Well, it's a little harder for me. I can't just do that: My parents and his parents have had this marriage thought about for two years, and it's proving a little difficult to get out of."

"Jesus, are you living in the 17th Century? You're the Gryffindor Princess for Christ sake act like it." Draco said, with frustration colouring his tone.

"You think I haven't tried to get out of it?" She retaliated heatedly, "You are forever calling me a stubborn know-it-all – where do you think I get it from? My mother is worse than me; she is immovable when she gets an idea in her head. And unfortunately, I didn't oppose the idea at the very beginning, for certain reasons I don't want to go into right now, which is making opposition now very difficult. My father is easier to sway, and I've tried to reason with him. I even thought I'd got somewhere with him, before I came back to Hogwarts. But apparently I didn't" she finished, losing heart.

"So you're going to just give up? Just like that?" Draco persisted, "That doesn't seem like you."

"Malfoy, it's complicated, I'm pretty sure there's something that I don't know about which is complicating it even more. Can you just drop it? Please." She asked, and Draco held up his hands in defeat.

"Ok, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry." He stood up and turned to leave, realising he was getting nowhere except angering her, which would do neither of them any good.

After a heartbeat he paused, turned back to her, and spoke quietly, and a little feelingly. "It's just, after everything you've been through you deserve to be happy. And this guy isn't making you happy. You deserve better, so you should fight for better." He turned again, and walked back into the heads tower. Hermione listened to his retreating footsteps, and when she heard her door close she sighed.

"Maybe I spoke a little too harshly," she admitted to herself, "I should apologise, shouldn't I?" She asked the snow in rhetoric, before nodding in self-acquiescence.

She removed the ring from her finger, replaced it in its box, and returned inside. After placing the ring on the writing table by the door, and tossing the blanket back over the couch, she followed Draco downstairs, and found him in the small kitchenette, brewing coffee.

"Hey," she said, taking a seat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

Draco turned, "Coffee?" he asked.

Hermione smiled, "Please."

Draco turned back around and took out another mug, as Hermione spoke again.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I'm just stressed out about the whole thing – I know it's not an excuse for my behaviour, but -"

Draco turned and cut her off, "It's fine. I get that I don't know all the ins-and-outs of your life, let alone your engagement, and I get that my interfering is the last thing you would you want. But the way I see it, I'm the only one here who knows about it, and clearly you're not getting out of this situation on your own, so maybe I can help, if you let me understand. Because from where I'm standing, I don't get why you can't just turn around and tell them to 'stuff it'?"

Hermione laughed at the phrasing, but shook her head, "It's a little more complicated than that-"

"So you keep saying." Draco cut her off patiently, and turned back to make the coffees.

Hermione sighed, "Fine, I'll explain." She gave in: she had no idea why she suddenly wanted to let Draco in on her problems, but she went with it, feeling the need to get a load of her shoulders, if only for a half hour.

"It probably would do me good to talk about it, maybe explaining it all will help me find the piece I seem to be missing." She rationalised out loud.

Draco placed two steaming mugs onto the counter and took a seat at the stool next to Hermione, trying not to look smug at getting his own way with the most stubborn witch he had ever met. "So, spill" he told her.

"Don't look so smug," She said, clearly Draco hadn't concealed his facial expression as well as he had hoped. That or perhaps Hermione just knew him better than anyone else. He quickly dismissed this thought, just because he had admitted a little of his feelings to Emmy the other night, it didn't mean Hermione felt at all the same way, so there was no use trying to find proof that she did.

"Despite your contrary belief, it's not a look that suits." Hermione told him and Draco gave her a roguish grin, which earned him a classic Hermione-eye-roll.

Hermione took a breath, looking back down at her mug preparing herself, trying to figure out where to start, while Draco sat in silence, waiting patiently for her to begin.

"I wasn't sure if I was going to come back here. I was looking at going into the Ministry on a trainee programme, but they all started in October. To get out of the engagement, I would have needed a job right away. I would have needed a place to live as well, which is why a trainee programme would have been perfect as they provide share-houses if needed, down in London, for the first year. But I couldn't wait until October. The only way to buy me time, was to say I was continuing with my schooling."

Draco had no idea what this had to do with her engagement, but he let her continue in peace: He knew enough of her by now to be sure that Hermione never said anything that wasn't necessary.

"My parents pay for everything. They have money; they have quite a lot of money, actually. And I will inherit a pretty decent amount. But my trust fund is not accessible to me until I turn twenty-five, or I get married, upon which time, my assets become my husbands also – my parents are firm believers in equality and 'what's mine is yours'.

"While I'm still in school, they are prepared to fully support me. But when I leave school – they won't take my inheritance away, but if I go out on my own, I will be _on my own_. They don't believe in pampering my every whim, they value independence, and wish me to value it likewise. In other words, when I take up a career at the Ministry they will no longer give me financial assistance – which I agree with, I will be earning myself, I shouldn't need their money. I will have to support myself, and that's fine: with the trainee programmes, housing is available, which will give me somewhere to live for a year, so I can save and put a deposit on a house further down the line, that's all good.

"But my mother is so intent on me marrying: When the engagement was first suggested to me, I didn't oppose – I was in the middle of sixth year, i didn't take it too seriously. Then, when is was mentioned again with more certainty, I about to go on the run and send my parents into hiding, I didn't feel it was the right time to argue this. I had bigger things on my mind, and this seemed so trivial, and I could see it was what my mother wanted, so I told her what she wanted to hear.

"Unfortunately, now the war is over, she hasn't let go of the idea and I couldn't wait until October to get out. She was all set for a September wedding, and the only thing I could do to buy myself time was to come back to Hogwarts. Over summer, I spoke to my father, I told him how I felt and he seemed to be on my side. But the recent letters I've been receiving from my Mother shows no signs of breaking the engagement, if anything she's more intent than ever. Now the wedding will be in June. Unless I can find out what it is that's got my parents gripped so tight into this." Hermione finished, wondering if she had been coherent at all.

Draco sat in quiet contemplation for a few moments, absorbing her words, and then looked at Hermione,

"So you _are_ from a rich, high-society family?" he asked, "I mean, I could tell from your poise and your speech that you were well brought up, and there have been a few hints that you're not exactly new to the upper-circles, but you're not exactly of the spoilt little rich girl mould."

"Seriously?" Hermione asked incredulously, looking round at Draco and meeting his eye for the first time. "That's all you can focus on? The money? You have nothing useful to say to me that might help to get me out of this mess?"

Draco chuckled, "I'm sorry, but I've been burning to know exactly what your background is, ever since that article. And you've never told anyone you're an heiress?"

Hermione scowled, "Of course not. It doesn't matter; it doesn't make me who I am. And we don't discuss money, it's just not the done thing." Suddenly, something clicked, "Oh my God. The money."

Draco raised his eyebrows, "Sorry?"

Hermione turned to him, "That's it. It's the money. I can't believe I didn't see it. I looked over the accounts, I should have realised."

"You're babbling and I have no idea what you're talking about." Draco said, "I thought you didn't discuss money, apparently it's not the done thing, so why are you talking about it now?"

"Exactly, we don't discuss money, that's why they wont tell me the real issues here. It's the money. That's why I can't get out; they want the Aldens' money. Richard is set up for a hefty inheritance – a hell of a lot more than me. I mean we're not exactly struggling for cash; we have a considerable bank account, but most of our fortune is tied up in the house, which has been in my mother's family for generations, and the business. The Aldens' fortune is relatively new, and mostly cold hard cash, sitting in their bank accounts.

"But the business hasn't been making as much money over the past couple of years. We're not in danger, but we're not sailing as safe as we used to. An investiture from the Aldens would set us up for the rest of my parents' life, the rest of my life, and it would ensure that the business would survive and grow, and there would be an even bigger inheritance to leave to my children. That's it. I can't believe I didn't see it. I can't believe my father wasn't honest with me." Hermione finished, the thrill of understanding that had flared so suddenly, just as quickly disappeared as despair and resignation began to settle.

Hermione sat in silence, cradling her mug, mulling over her new found intelligence. Draco sat watching her quietly, and he had a pretty shrewd idea what was going around in her brain right now – the selfless Gryffindor in her was winning, and he had an inkling as to why her father had kept this major detail from her: Hermione's father, like Draco, knew what she would do.

"You're thinking of going through with it now, aren't you?" He challenged and Hermione looked up.

"Do I have much choice?" Hermione asked sadly, "I'm already a disappointment to them for not following in their footsteps by being a dentist - "

"A disappointment?! Are you for real?" Draco cut her off incredulously, sounding slightly angered. "You're the smartest witch of our generation, and you've just helped save the Wizarding world, that doesn't quite qualify for a disappointing daughter."

Hermione smiled at the compliment, but said sadly,

"My parents are Muggles, blissfully unaware of the dangers we faced. They have no idea what I did last year, they're not even aware of half the dangers that we were exposed to in Voldemort's rise to power. The point is, I'm not going onto the family the business the way they'd planned. I can't be responsible for letting it suffer. Without the Aldens' money, the business may not last another generation. And without me marrying Richard, we don't get the Aldens' money."

Hermione sighed and hopped down from the stool, not sure where she was wanting to go, she made to head for the portrait hole, Draco grabbed he arm and pulled her back around.

"Are you ok?" he asked sincerely, frowning.

In this position, Hermione and Draco were at an even height and Hermione found herself not three inches away from Draco, looking right into his eyes, slightly surprised to see concern swirling in the silver pools. She felt at that moment, that he understood: he understood the situation she had suddenly found herself in, and he understood her need to preserve her family's honour, integrity and social standing. In short, her understood _her._

"I don't know." She answered truthfully. In the face of his understanding she couldn't summon the well-rehearsed line of '_I'm perfectly fine_' nor the serene smile that usually accompanied it. Something in Draco's expression and tone had the truth falling from her lips as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be so honest with him.

"I have no idea what to do now, this changes everything." She whispered. After a moment she looked down, closed her eyes as if to gather her thoughts, then took a deep breath in.

"I need some air, I need to think." She said suddenly, looking up and meeting his eyes again.

Draco still hadn't let go of her arm, instead his hand had unconsciously slipped down and he was now pretty much holding her hand. He nodded, not really knowing what to say to her, Hermione had been intending to move, but she seemed stuck in place, just staring into his eyes, as he stared back.

They were jolted back into movement by the sound of the portrait hole swinging open, and Ginny's voice preceding her into the room:

"Guys?" she called; Draco dropped Hermione's hand, leaning back onto the counter to look past Hermione toward the sound of the voice, and Hermione turned to face the entry.

"Oh good, you're both here" Ginny continued when she spotted them. She grinned a little at their closeness, and the look on Hermione's face that suggested they'd been caught in the middle of something, but didn't say anything.

"What's up, Gin?" Hermione asked, heading her off before she could comment on the close scene she may have just witnessed.

"We have a problem" Ginny got right down to business, as she walked right around the pair into the kitchenette and helped herself to the fresh coffee as if she lived their too. Hermione slid back into her seat, both she and Draco were to used to this kind of behaviour from Ginny, so they just let her get on with it.

Ginny turned back to them, with mug in hand, "I booked the pitch for tomorrow night, last Gryffindor training session of the year, only to find that someone has messed up the diary and the 'Puffs are also booked in to train." She ranted, leaning against the counter.

Hermione shrugged and rolled her eyes, "Can you not discuss rescheduling with the Hufflepuff captain?" she suggested.

"You don't think I tried that?" Ginny frowned, "That's the first thing I did, it's a no go. We both have players who have other commitments on the other days, tutoring and such like."

"And what would you like us to do about it?" Draco asked trying to get the point of what he felt was slowly turning into a pointless conversation, and more of a rant for Ginny to simply vent.

"An executive decision." Ginny grinned, causing Draco to chuckle as Hermione groaned.

"Gin, I can't decide this" Hermione whined, "You're one of my best friends, and I'm a Gryffindor: if I choose your side, people are going to cry favouritism. If I give in to the 'Puffs, you're going to hate me."

"Well what's more important to you," Ginny asked in mock seriousness, "My love or Smith's team?"

Draco laughed, and left his seat giving Hermione's shoulder a squeeze, "Good luck with that one, I'm going to go finish up some homework."

He walked over to the study area and left the girls to their conversion. Hermione scowled at him, before turning back to Ginny, who now had a sly grin on her face, eyebrows slightly raised at that little hint of closeness that neither had let show in front of anyone before. It seemed in those moments before Ginny's entrance, Draco and Hermione had crossed yet another line of defence.

"What?" Hermione said shortly, Ginny shrugged, still with the annoying grin on her face.

"Oh, nothing. You two seem to be getting closer and closer," She commented, her tone innocent, though the look in her eyes implying scandalous hints. "Are we finally past the denial?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed, "Do you want your executive decision now?" she asked, avoiding Ginny's question.

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Hand it over."

"Share." Hermione stated, causing Ginny to forgot her teasing and frown.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Share the pitch: I know you guys haven't played each other yet, but both teams have seen the other play, so you've got nothing to hide. It's the last week before the holidays, I know you're obsessed with the training, but chances are everyone else won't be as enthusiastic as usual. Do a few drills using half the pitch, like you usually do, and then have a game. What better way to train than a full on game against a full opposition? No one has to keep a proper score; it'll be fun for you guys. And it'll help with this inter-house unity thing the school is trying to promote." Hermione said.

"Because Gryffindor and Hufflepuff have always found it hard to get along." Ginny said dryly, then sighed, "I suppose you're right, and there are worse teams to train with I guess."

"It's the only solution that is fair to both teams," Hermione drilled the point home, "It's either that, or no practice at all, for either team. I'll commandeer the pitch for my own personal use if I have to." Hermione said with a grin.

"Oh really, what for?" Ginny asked, joining in the joke.

Hermione shrugged, "I don't know, the snows been coming down pretty heavy this evening, maybe we'll have a Prefect Snow-War. Quidditch captains will be included of course." She made up on the spot.

Ginny thought for a second, "Actually, that sounds kind of fun, maybe we should do that anyway. Would we split into two teams? Or go house against house?" She asked, as if seriously considering Hermione's pedantic suggestion.

"Two teams," Hermione decided, playing along. "We'll have to mix houses up – inter-house unity and all. We could do boys against girls, that way the teams would be pretty much even, and each house would be represented in both teams."

Ginny grinned, "That almost sounds more fun than Quidditch. Almost." She reiterated, at Hermione's look of disbelief.

"Oh, and another thing, Slughorn's party on Friday." Ginny said suddenly, "What are you wearing and who are you taking?"

Hermione groaned. "I have no idea. Do I have to take someone? To be honest I'd rather not."

Ginny frowned, and then suddenly called out, "Oi! Ferret!"

Hermione frowned, clearly the pet-name was here to stay. Draco looked up from his essay,

"Yes, Weaselette?" Apparently that pet-name was stuck also.

"Did you get an invite to Slughorn's party, this Friday?" Ginny asked.

"Surprisingly, yes." Draco frowned. "Though why, I have no idea. The last time he put together his little club, I was avoided like the plague."

Hermione turned, "You're a lot more interesting now. You would make a unique acquisition to his collection of students." She said, walking to the couch, where Ginny followed her.

"How on earth do you figure that?" Draco asked, placing his quill down and leaning back with a frown.

"Your family is notorious. Your parents are ex-Death Eaters, who have not only handed themselves over, but also repented. Your father is currently helping the Aurors with information, which is leading to the capture of the remaining Death Eaters still at large. And you've returned to Hogwarts, to complete your education, trying to fight against the prejudice surrounding your name and you are exceptionally intelligent, and the second-brightest student in the school. You have potential to go far. If you sought a career in the Ministry, you would have what it takes to raise very high. And Professor Slughorn knows all this.

"What you need to know about Horace Slughorn is that he likes to surround himself with successful people, and he likes it even better when he believes he has had an influence in these people's success. He sees potential in you, and if you go on to rise through the Ministry, he will be very happy knowing he was the person who introduced you to the whoever it is who hires you in the first place. Slughorn likes to believe he is influential, he's like a puppeteer and we're his little puppets. he pulls the strings, we take the glory, and he gets the kick-backs." Hermione told him.

"Riiight," Draco said slowly, "And if I don't go into the Ministry?"

Hermione shrugged, "If you turn out to be a bit of a failure, he will disown you, and deny he had any interest in you." She said bluntly, then smiled as both Ginny and Draco laughed.

* * *

**_A/N: A little shorter than usual, I apologise. The next chapter will probably be a little longer._**

**_I know you are all waiting patiently for Hermione a Draco to get on with it, and your patience will be well rewarded perhaps not the next chapter, but certainly very very soon :) _**

**_Let me know what you guys think, and I'll get working on Chpt 18 right away :)_**

**_xBx_**


	18. Chapter 18: Back to Reality

**_A/N: Hey all! I've finally got the update ready. Just want to say a quick thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, you guys are great. I am loving all the feedback, especially how much you guys are enjoying the story_. I hope this next chapter lives up to the rest.**

**xBx**

* * *

**~ Chapter 18: Back to Reality ~**

On the final week of term, despite the teachers' best efforts, the Yuletide spirit could not be kept at bay for much longer. The snow that had started falling Monday evening had continued to fall with a vengeance, so that by Tuesday afternoon the grounds were near impassable and all Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures lessons were cancelled for the rest of the week. Hermione was extremely thankful for the extra free time as the usual amount of holiday assignments seemed to be triple for the seventh years, and she was glad for the chance of a head start. Yet, despite those extra hours of study now available to her, Hermione really didn't succeed in getting much work done: her mind was constantly distracted by the enigma that was Draco Malfoy – or, more accurately, her feelings towards said enigma.

No doubt about it, Hermione no longer hated him. No, hate had definitely disappeared a long time ago. Since September, they seemed to have co-existed as equals, and she now found that she rather enjoyed his company. He was intelligent, far more intelligent than she had previously given him credit for, and she found herself often holding in-depth conversations with him about subjects she had never been able to thoroughly discuss with Harry and Ron. Not that the boys were unintelligent, far from it, but rather they didn't share her love of book learning. Draco Malfoy, however, didn't seem quite as averse to reading something informative every so often.

She wondered briefly if they were in fact good friends? But she frowned as she thought the word; 'friends' just didn't seem to fit the relationship they had going. She thought of Ginny's words from the other night: _Are we finally past the denial?_ Maybe Ginny was right, maybe Hermione was in denial, and so she tried to open her mind: was she attracted to Draco Malfoy? Physically, yes. She had admitted that a long time ago.

Was she falling for him? This was more difficult to answer: She had certainly grown used to being around him, and she enjoyed his company. She now found him relatively easy to talk to, and she felt comfortable sharing certain details of her upbringing and her Muggle life that she had not been able to tell anyone else. Then there was the underlying tension that had been there since Hallowe'en, and which both of them had been studiously trying to ignore. But Hermione was struggling to ignore it, especially after Monday. When Draco had grabbed her arm, his touch had sent a pleasant shiver tingling down her spine. And when she had found herself so close to him, staring into his eyes unable to look away, her stomach had filled with butterflies such as she had never known before and all she could think of in that moment was how much she wanted to kiss him.

Unfortunately for Hermione's piece of mind, this turned out to be a frequent line of thought: she often found herself wondering what his lips would taste like against hers. She mused over how his body might feel, pressed up against her, his hands entwined in her hair. And what it would be like to run her fingers through his hair.

So yes, it was highly probable that she was falling for the Slytherin Prince after all. or maybe she had already fallen. _But what did it matter?_ Hermione reminded herself. She would be returning, in a couple of days, to her parents; back to the Muggle world where her fiancé awaited her. Hermione was engaged to another man, and falling for Draco Malfoy was not helping the situation.

Hermione let out a long, fairly loud, sigh which drew the attention of her roommate who was sat up at the large table, pouring over parchments and books.

"You alright, Granger?" Draco called over, and Hermione withdrew her gaze from the window where she had been watching, without seeing, the snow fall crystal white against a backdrop of onyx sky.

"What?" She asked, and then shook her head as if to clear it, "Sorry, lost in thought."

"They didn't sound happy thoughts." He commented, and Hermione gave a self-conscious laugh, thinking to herself _if only he knew._

"It's nothing," she smiled, praying he wouldn't notice the slight blush in her cheeks. "What are you working on?" She asked, hoping to distract him.

Draco gave a discontented sigh, not unlike Hermione's, "The theoretical basis of wandless magic, for Flitwick." He said, leaning back in his chair.

"Ahh," Hermione nodded, "Yeah, he gave our class that assignment as well. I believe he wants us to attain a full theoretical knowledge and understanding before we attempt it next term."

"Have you looked at it yet?" Draco asked, "Or is that what you're doing now?" He indicated to the two books she had with her. Draco was too far away to see the contents, but open on Hermione's knee was her copy of '_The Tales of Beedle the Bard_', and next to her, laying open on the couch, was her _Spellman's Syllabry._

"This isn't schoolwork," She admitted, "I'm just passing the time. I looked into wandless theory earlier, in my last period free, but after an hour my brain started to hurt so I gave up for a while." She laughed, "So now I'm reading an old book in Ancient Runes."

Draco looked at her, slightly incredulous, "That's how you pass the time? Reading books in ancient runes?"

Hermione flushed at little, and rolled her eyes. "It's the only copy I have of this book, and I like it." She defended.

"What book is it?" he asked as he picked up his quill and went to load it with ink.

"_The Tales of Beedle the Bard_" She answered, looking back down at her book as she spoke, but looking back up again a moment later at a _thunk_ that suggested an inkbottle had been overturned.

Draco cursed under his breath, and quickly cleaned up the ink with a wave of his wand, before looking at Hermione, wide-eyed.

"You have an original copy of _The Tales_?" he asked in awe, and when Hermione nodded he moved from his seat to join her on the couch, where Hermione silently handed him her book to inspect.

"Wow," he breathed, looking at the book with delicate wonder. "My mother used to read these two me as a child. We have a very old copy in the library, an original translation I believe, quite rare. But Mother always longed to find an original Ancient Rune version. We thought they were all gone."

Draco looked up at Hermione, "You must have been amazed to find this." He said.

Hermione gave an embarrassed smile, and shrugged a shoulder, "Actually, at the time I didn't even know what I was getting. I'd never heard of them," she admitted, then explained in response to Draco's disbelieving look, "These are Wizarding fairytales, I grew up with Muggle ones: Cinderella, Rapunzel-"

Comprehension dawned and Draco finished her sentence: "Brier Rose and Rumpelstiltskin, of course. You would have been read to from the Brothers Grimm."

Hermione couldn't help the incredulous look that now graced her face as her jaw dropped: Draco Malfoy knew Muggle fairytales, had Hermione just tumbled down the rabbit hole?

Draco caught the look and laughed, "The Malfoy library is vast, and has been accumulating for centuries. There a lot of Muggle works in there, a lot of first editions." He told her.

"First editions?" Hermione clarified, excitement in her eyes – just as Narcissa Malfoy had longed for the original _Tales of Beedle the Bard_, so had Victoria Granger longed for an original publication of Fairytales by the Brothers Grimm. "You have a first edition of Grimm's fairytales?" she asked.

Draco smiled, "Better than that, we have their original writings, their journals – original manuscripts, if you like."

Hermione didn't know what to say, she simply stared, while Draco chuckled at the shock on her face.

"I'm serious," he told her. "I'm sure I could persuade mother to let me borrow them, so you can look at them. If, in return you would let me borrow this?" He waved _The Tales_ _of Beedle the Bard_ in front of her.

Hermione gave him a shrewd look, as she couldn't help but remember the reason Dumbledore had left her the book. Draco continued without immediately noticing the change in Hermione's demeanour.

"My mother would love to se this, and translate it." He said.

"Simply for it's historical value?" Hermione clarified.

Draco frowned, "What other possible reason could there be?" He asked.

Hermione shrugged, "Just wondering if there was a story in particular you would like to read or investigate a little further?" she said in feigned nonchalance.

"Why?" asked Draco, suddenly alert, "Should there be? What do you know that I don't?" he asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowed.

"Nothing, nothing." Hermione said airily, waving a hand and dearly wishing she hadn't said anything. Draco turned on the couch so that he was facing her, his arm draping over the back.

"Don't give me that." He said, "There's something you're not telling me, I can tell."

Hermione looked at him for a moment, then handed him her _Spellman's Syllabry._

"Here," she sighed, "Translate it for yourself, Rune to Rune, then tell me if it differs any, from the stories you were told as a child." She said simply.

Draco continued to give her a shrewd look as he slowly took the other book from her. They were interrupted by the sound of the Picture swinging open and Blaise and Ginny entered the room. Both grinned at the sight before them.

"Sorry," Ginny smirked, "Are we interrupting something?"

Hermione smiled sweetly, "Nothing at all. What's up?" She asked, shifting slightly in her seat to put a little distance between Draco and Herself.

Draco turned back around to face the room, at the same time delicately placing the two books down on the table and shifting slightly away from Hermione, only now becoming fully aware of how close they had become.

"What's wrong? All the unused classrooms locked?" Draco asked with sarcasm.

"Very funny," Blaise said, taking a seat in the chair and pulling Ginny into his lap. "We have half an hour to kill before curfew, just thought we'd drop by."

"Plus, I wanted to know what you're wearing tomorrow night." Ginny stated, looking at Hermione who rolled her eyes and shrugged.

"I don't know, I can't remember what I brought with me, probably the classic LBD. Little Black Dress." Hermione added in response to the boys' confused looks, "Have you found out who else was invited yet?" she asked.

"Haven't really asked around, but I do know that Neville is bringing Emmy as his date." Ginny said with a grin, "The DA really are doing their part in bringing about inter-house unity, aren't we?" she joked.

###

At eight o'clock the next night, Hermione was sat at the breakfast bar, tapping her fingers on the counter top, waiting impatiently for Draco to appear. He was being worse than any woman Hermione had known with how long he was taking to get ready, and when he finally emerged he descended into the kitchen muttering under his breath, clearly not looking forward to the evening. Hermione's heart skipped a beat when she saw him, and she mentally kicked herself for being such a girl. He was wearing grey, pinstriped, suit pants and a thin grey silk shirt, with an emerald green tie. The ensemble was clearly expensive and tailor-made, as each item hung from him perfectly, accentuating his toned and muscular physique – the shirt in particular was thin enough, and fitted enough, to be able to clearly see the outline of his abs in the perfect lighting. As Draco descended, he swung a thin black dress-cloak over his attire, fastening the silver clasp with a resigned sigh.

Hermione pulled herself together quick enough, and stood up before Draco reached the bottom step. When Draco caught sight of Hermione the mutterings stopped as he took in the view before him: Hermione was wearing a black dress that fell just below her knees, with a halter-neck and low-cut back. Fitted at the top and slightly cinched at the waist, the bottom was left to flow with her curves in an alluring way. It was simple yet sophisticated, and like Draco's outfit it didn't look inexpensive. Her hair was eased into a bun, and loose tendrils fell around her face effortlessly. The outfit was finished with the heels she had worn for the train journey, and a black clutch that had her wand, compact and lip-gloss – she wasn't particularly bothered about the latter two objects, but she had no where else to put her wand, and it seemed silly taking a bag just for her wand. She had also decided to pack the Marauder's Map, that Harry had sent her a couple of months back, just in case.

"Wow," Draco said before he cold think of what he was saying, "You look great."

Hermione blushed a little at the compliment, "Thank you. So do you. Now are you done complaining and can we get this over with?" she smirked, leading the way out.

Five minutes later they had meandered through the corridors and made it to Slughorn's office where the party was in full swing. As expected, Slughorn had acquired the usual amount of famous faces – Hermione spotted the drummer from The Weird Sisters, and half of The Flaming Hippogriffs, along with Gwenog Jones, a few Ministry representatives and, Hermione's heart leapt, Harry and Ron.

Her face splitting into a grin, Hermione rushed her way through the crowd and threw her arms around Harry with an excited squeal, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, before giving Ron the same welcome.

"Why didn't you tell me you would be here?" She asked, giving them each a light tap on their arm.

The boys grinned, "We thought we'd surprise you, we only got back into the office on Monday," Harry started.

"About that," Hermione said, just as Draco walked silently up to them, Blaise and Ginny with him. Harry and Ron glanced nervously at each other; they had failed to notice the new arrivals, but they hadn't failed to notice the change in their best friend's tone – Hermione was gearing up her reprimand voice, and that never bode well for them.

Hermione took a step forwards and without warning, simultaneously gave them both a sharp smack up the side of their heads.

"Ow! Hermione what the heck?" Both boys cried, gingerly rubbing their heads as Hermione started to rant.

"What is the matter with you two?" she scolded, "You've barely been at your job six months and you're already crossing lines and flouting authority! Do you want to loose you jobs? Because you're going the right way about it! This isn't school anymore, and we're not out on our own either – you can't just wonder off. You work for the Ministry now, there are protocols to be followed. I mean, do you know how galling it is to receive a letter from Kingsley telling me 'my boys have done it again'?" she quoted.

"Oh yes. In that letter you were no longer 'Potter and Weasley, Ministry Aurors'. Oh no, you were _my_ problem: You have managed to piss off your superiors so bad that they deny responsibility for you!" She told them, and her boys had the decency to look a little ashamed as they shifted uncomfortably.

"Sorry," mumbled Ron, looking at his feet.

"Yeah, sorry 'Mione." Harry echoed, giving her his usual goofy grin.

Hermione simply shook her head and sighed, as Draco, Ginny and Blaise all gave similar derisive snorts at the same time, finally alerting the others to the expansion of the group.

"Oh she really has you two whipped," Draco commented with more of a grin and less of a smirk than Harry and Ron were used to.

Hermione shrugged and looked at Draco, still slightly disgruntled but smiling at him none-the-less. "It seems that way, but they'll be all contrite for a few days, then before you know it, they'll do it again." She admitted.

Harry was looking from Hermione to Draco, clearly disconcerted at the ease of conversation and closeness between the two; they were almost touching and yet neither were fazed by the closeness. Even when someone passed through the crowd close to the pair at that moment, Draco put his hand against Hermione's lower back, gently guiding her further into the group, preventing her from being jostled by the moving crowd and Hermione acted as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Ron, however, was oblivious to Harry's observations: he had just noticed the intimate position of Blaise Zabini and his sister, and from the look on his face he wasn't best pleased. Blaise had his arm around Ginny's waist, his hand gently resting on her hip, pulling her close as he spoke something in her ear, while Ginny had a hand lightly resting on Blaise's chest.

Hermione noticed Ron's expression and saw his ears starting to turn red – always a danger sign. As Draco was between her and Ginny, she elbowed him in the side and nodded to Ron.

"You'd better tell them to knock it off," She said with a gin, "Before Ron explodes."

Draco chuckled, but obliged, "Oi, Weaselette. You might want to tone it down, before you give your brother an aneurysm."

Ginny rolled her eyes, took a small step back from Blaise, and looked Ron straight in the eye, "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, I'm currently dating Blaise Zabini."

Hermione rolled her eyes and chuckled at her friends blatant lack of tact. Thankfully a waiter chose that moment to come to them with a tray of drinks, distracting from the awkwardness and allowing a change of subject to be introduced.

The night turned out to be more enjoyable than Hermione had anticipated: When Slughorn wasn't parading the Golden Trio as the guests of honour, Hermione found time to re-acquaint herself with the Flaming Hippogriffs, whom she had only managed to briefly speak to back in November. She discovered that one of the Ministry employees there was actually high up in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and Hermione spent a good half hour in conversation about her views on elf-rights, as well as a realistic expectation of what the department actually involved – Hermione had never thought it would be so hands on, but the idea of being a Hunter for the department sounded rather exciting, and gave her something to think about as a possible future path.

There were a few reporters and authors amongst the crowd, and while they swore they were there strictly for pleasure, Hermione still chose her words carefully when she spoke to them, despite the freely flowing mulled wine. Despite all the mingling, Hermione still found plenty of time to enjoy her friends' company; the evening started with stiff conversation and awkward silences between the boys – Harry and Ron still not used to the apparent truce between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins, but as the group drank more, tensions eased and polite conversation and even witty banter ensued.

It was now nearing 1am, the party was becoming slightly raucous and no doubt McGonagall would be coming along soon enough to chivvy the remaining students back to their rooms. Neville and Emmy, after mingling through the crowd, had found the group by a window not long into the night. Harry, who was nearest to the window, looked out over the grounds, and smiled.

"The snows finally stopped," he commented, "Look at it all, perfect and undisturbed. It would be perfect for a snowball fight, don't you think?" He looked around at the group.

Ginny giggled, she hadn't been holding back on the mulled wine, and looked at Hermione, "What do you reckon? Not quite the full blown snow-war you were planning."

Hermione laughed, "No, but it would still be fun. We'd have to sneak out though, if the teachers caught us we'd be in trouble."

"Speak for yourselves," Ron laughed, "Harry and I aren't students anymore, so we can't get into trouble."

Hermione stuck her tongue out at the redhead, causing Ginny to snort with laughter, while Harry asked quietly, "Have you got the map?"

Hermione grinned mischievously, "Of course." She said to Harry, and then addressed the rest of the group. "Alright: drink up, lets move, we'll check the map outside."

Hermione drained her goblet, placed it on the window-sill and made her way through the crowd, making sure to avoid Slughorn, and out into the corridor, where she pulled the map from her purse and tapped it with her wand whilst muttering "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Draco came up behind her, closely followed by Neville and Emmy who had been the first to follow, as the ink began spreading across the parchment.

Draco let out a long whistle, "That is an impressive artefact." He said, "Where the hell did you come across this?" he asked, peering over her shoulder in wonder.

"It's Harry's, a family heirloom," Hermione grinned and looked up, her heart rate kicked up a notch when she realised how close Draco's face was to hers, "His father and his friends made it." She said, her voice coming out a little more hoarse than usual.

Draco smirked a little, as if he knew what was going through Hermione's mind, but before she could do anymore than blush slightly, they were interrupted.

"Heh-Hem." Someone cleared their throat loudly, clearly disgruntled. Draco took a step to the side and Hermione saw that Ron had joined the group, Harry, Blaise and Ginny a step behind – the latter of whom was openly grinning at Hermione, and winked when Hermione looked back at her.

Hermione tried not to laugh at the situation, but the wine had lowered her impulse control, so she looked back at the map instead to cover her giggles.

"The corridors are deserted, peeves is three floors above us, and Mrs Norris is skulking around the Trophy Room," She told them, before folding the map and putting it back in her clutch with her wand.

"It's now or never," She said, looking up with a grin and yelling, "Haul Ass!" and with that she took off up the corridor at a run. She heard the giggles of Emmy and Ginny, who were the quickest off the mark to follow her. The boys shared a humorous look before shrugging their shoulders and taking off after them.

The boys caught up in no time, and by the time they had reached the marble staircase they had taken the lead, except Draco who hung back to ask: "You're seriously still running in heels granger?"

Ginny and Emmy had removed theirs at the first flight of steps, but Hermione had remained defiant. "They're not that high, I can run fine."

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she stumbled on a step and would have fallen head-first if Draco's arm hadn't quickly wrapped around her waist and pulled her up.

"But apparently, you can't do stairs." He smirked.

Hermione flushed and laughed, "Apparently not," she agreed, "Thanks."

Ginny wolf-whistled from the bottom of the stairs, where she was putting her shoes back on, at which Blaise, Emmy and Neville laughed. Hermione ignored them, and continued a little more slowly down the rest of the stairs, and out into the fresh snow, now bathed in light from the entrance hall, the double doors wide open.

Harry and Ron were already out and without missing a beat, fired a snowball each at Hermione as soon as she came through the doors. A furious battle ensued, and as the minutes wore on their shrieks and laughter carried louder, slowly blocking out the sounds of the still going party drifting down from the windows of Slughorn's office. Before long all were soaking: the boys' hair was no longer styled, but stuck down on their foreheads, dripping with snowmelt.

Harry and Ron were engaged in a fierce battle against each other, completely distracted from everyone else. Hermione was taking aim, intending get Ron in the head. Too intent on her target she didn't hear Draco creeping up behind her, his hands full of snow. Hermione let out a shriek as the freezing snow touched her back and went down her dress. Immediately she turned, and before Draco had chance to remove his hands, she thrust the snowball meant for Ron into Draco's neck and down the collar of his shirt.

Hermione stepped back and giggled, as Draco thrashed at the cold and strung a few curse words together. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and gave a violent shiver, finally starting to feel the cold.

"You alright?" Harry's voice called over, and Hermione glanced over her shoulder and gave him a huge grin.

"Perfectly fine, just got a lot of snow down my dress." She called back laughing, before turning back to Draco.

"You look freezing," Draco frowned, taking in her stance.

Hermione shrugged, "The downfall of wearing a minimum amount of clothing" she joked. "I could do with another glass of mulled wine, right about now."

Wordlessly, Draco unclasped his dress cloak and draped it over Hermione's shoulders, refastening the clasp under her chin. Hermione wrapped it around her gratefully, but before she could utter her thanks, another voice ripped through the air.

"What on earth is going on here?"

All eight of them suddenly stopped what they were doing and turned, wide-eyed, towards the doors to see Professor McGonagall in her tartan dressing gown coming down the steps.

"Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger," She addressed Draco and Hermione as they were closest to the entrance hall, "Explain yourselves."

Hermione didn't know what to say; the wine and the snowball fight had left her incredibly giddy and she felt any attempt to talk would result in outright laughter, but she gave it a shot regardless.

"Snowball fight, Professor." She stated, her voice shaking slightly with the effort to control her giggles; "We were at Slughorn's party when we noticed the snow had stopped. We didn't like to waste the opportunity."

"At two in the morning?" McGonagall huffed. When no one answered, McGonagall sighed "I suggest you all return to your sleeping quarters immediately, before I loose my holiday spirit and decide to give you all detention."

"Yes Professor," Draco mumbled, at the same time Hermione whispered, "Sorry Professor."

"Potter, Weasley," She turned her attention to Harry and Ron who skulking in the background, looking awkward, "If you're not returning to Slughorn's, I suggest you pay Hagrid a visit, his lights are still on, and it will get you out the cold."

"Yes mam" Harry said, and then called to Hermione "We'll see you soon?"

"I can't tomorrow, but I'll call in on Sunday." Hermione could see Harry wanted to talk to her about something; he had a troubled look in his eyes and there seemed an urgency in his voice when he had spoke.

McGonagall turned and returned to the castle, Hermione and the others following behind, the girls sneaking glances at each other and shaking with silent giggles.

When Hermione made it back into the heads tower, she collapsed on the sofa in front of the fire in hysterics of laughter. When she finally calmed down she saw that Draco had joined her and was holding out a glass of amber liquid for her to take, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Firewhiskey," he answered her, before she could ask, "It will warm you quicker than tea."

"Thanks," Hermione took the glass and sipped, before laughing again and shaking her head, "I can't believe we didn't get into trouble, we didn't even lose any points!"

"I can't believe how you spoke to McGonagall," Draco countered, "That took some nerve." A few moments of silence ensued while the pair drank, broken eventually by Draco.

"You all packed for tomorrow?" He asked.

Hermione groaned, and her smile disappeared, "No, I need to do that in the morning." She sighed, "I need to transfigure my trunk into something more suitable for Muggle London as well. I was just going to take my sequin bag, and apparate straight home from the platform-" she started,

"You can apparate into your home?" Draco asked, "Isn't that a little risky? I mean, you haven't got anti-apparition wards or anything?"

"No, I didn't see the need. You can only get there if you know where we live. As soon as I turned seventeen I took the earliest opportunity to cast the Fidelius Charm on the house. I did it over Christmas break in sixth year. I made myself and my mother secret keepers." Hermione laughed, "Gave my father quite a shock when I did it. He was out of the house at the time, he'd been away overnight, so when he returned he couldn't find the place. Even though he lived there, he wasn't there at the time the enchantments were put up, so he needed to be told where he lived to find the place again."

Hermione smiled fondly at the memory, "It made parties a little more awkward as well: whenever they had a dinner, or a cocktail party, all the invites had to be handwritten by my mother, giving the location in exact terms: along the lines of 'the event will take place at the Granger family's home, Roseby House' or something alike. It stressed my mother out to no end. In fact, it still does, as the charm is still in place." Hermione finished.

"Huh," Draco said, "Roseby House?"

Hermione shrugged, "The house was handed down my Mother's family, her maiden name was Roseby." She explained.

"Right," Draco nodded, "So why can't you apparate there tomorrow?" he asked, still unclear as to the reason for her change of plans.

Hermione sighed again, "Mother wrote to me this morning, she will me meeting me at King's Cross with father and Richard. We'll be spending the evening in London: dinner, theatre, spending the night at a hotel. We'll be travelling back up to York on Sunday."

Hermione stared into the fire for a moment, then sat up a little straighter, and turned with a resigned smile, "But it has to be endured."

Draco shook his head, "I still can't belief you're going to go through with this, not even fight."

"I never said that," Hermione said with a sly smile, "I'll keep up the pretences for now, lull them into a false sense of security and bide my time. At home I will have access to my parents' office: I'll dig out all the paperwork I need, all the accounts for the business, the house, investments – everything. I will find out the full financial situation, and figure out what I can do from there, how much time I have and how much money I need to find. I know I'm not going to get anywhere by going in all rash; I need to plan." She finished seriously.

Draco looked at her intently for a moment, and then smirked, "How very Slytherin of you." He said, sounding slightly impressed, while Hermione gave him a surprised look – never in a million years did she expect to be called a Slytherin. Draco caught the look of amazed confusion and elaborated.

"Being rash and acting in the heat of the moment is very Gryffindor. But your way: thinking it through and planning, you're being strategic and cunning. Very Slytherinesque." He joked.

"And on that note, I'm going to bed," Hermione said with a grin, deciding to end the conversation before she could become any more blasphemous against the memory of Godric Gryffindor. She drained her glass, stood up and finally removed Draco's cloak.

"Thank you," she said, handing it back, before heading upstairs to bed.

###

At 4pm the following evening Hermione emerged from Platform 9 ¾, said a hasty goodbye to Ginny promising to call in on her soon, and proceeded to the main exit with an anxious knot forming in her stomach. At a safe distance from her fellow students, she stood to the side of the crowd, fished out the ring box from her bag, and placed her engagement ring back on her finger with a heavy heart.

Taking a deep breath she plastered a smile on her face, straightened her back, and walked out into the weak winter sun which was starting to set, onto the busy Muggle street. Hermione had barely taken two steps outside when she was accosted by her Mother and Father all smiles, and who hugged her in turn.

Her father took her luggage from her, while her mother took her arm, and began to lead her to the car waiting for them at the side of the station.

"Richard is waiting for us at the hotel," Victoria said with a smile, "We'll go strait there so you can change, then we've made dinner reservations at that French restaurant you liked in Covent Garden, and I got us tickets to Mamma Mia – I know it's not exactly a classic yet, but I thought it would be a good change of pace. And It has great reviews, plus who doesn't love a bit of ABBA?." she reeled off as they approached the car.

"Let her breath, Love." Smiled Anthony, after handing Hermione's case over to the driver who loaded it into the trunk, and opening the door for his wife and daughter, "She's just got off the train. How has your term been sweetheart?" He asked Hermione, climbing in after the women.

Hermione smiled, "Tiring," she said honestly, "But it's been pretty good, so far. Quite a success I think. So where are we staying?" Hermione asked as the car pulled out into the London traffic.

"We're in the Azure suite, at the Mayfair Hotel." Victoria answered Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Are you serious?" She asked, incredulous. "We're here for one night and we have an entire suite? Isn't that a little OTT?"

Her father shrugged, "Blame Richard." He said simply, "He sorted the accommodation – He knows the manager, apparently."

Hermione shook her head but refrained from commenting; she had been in the Muggle world all of ten minutes and Richard was already testing her patience. Though maybe she should be thankful for the suite – lots of space to move around, at least she wouldn't be forced into confined spaces with disagreeable companions.

The car journey from the station seemed to be over in no time, and Hermione followed her parents through the lavish reception and up to the seventh floor. Upon entering the suite, Hermione walked into a spacious open-plan dining and living area, across which Richard was pacing talking on the phone – judging by the voice he was using, Hermione assumed it was something to do with business.

Richard smiled at Hermione as she entered, immediately walked over to her and pulled her into a one-armed hug. He pulled the phone away from his ear slightly, and gave her a chaste, quick kiss, before returning to his conversation. Hermione smiled blandly through the exchange, despite the anger that began to churn as she remembered the last time she had heard his voice. Hermione turned to her parents and spoke softly.

"I'm going to shower and change, where is my room?" She asked.

Her father pointed towards the door opposite the entrance at the other side of the open-plan living space, "Go through that door, and the double doors on your left is your room that you're sharing with Richard,"

Hermione tried not to let the sinking feeling she experienced show on her face, as her father continued:

"Your bathroom connects to your room. The single door on the right is another entrance to our room, and the other door is another exit." Anthony finished.

Hermione smiled her thanks and wheeled her luggage in the direction her father pointed. When she went through the double doors into her room she grinned at her unbelievable stroke of good fortune. When her father had told her she and Richard were sharing a room, she had automatically assumed she would be sharing a bed. But no: instead she was greeted with twin double beds and Hermione was determined to keep one to herself.

Without wasting another precious moment of alone time, Hermione pulled out the clothes she would be wearing this evening, gave them a quick steam with a wave of her wand, and hung them on the wardrobe door, before heading into the generous sized bathroom to shower off the days travel.

As Hermione let the steaming hot water wash over her, her mind wandered back to the previous evening. Already it seemed like days ago, when in fact it had been less than twenty hours ago. Despite the fun she had had, she had the feeling there would be some questions asked by Harry the next time she saw him – Hermione had noticed Harry watch her keenly throughout the evening, more particularly her interactions with Malfoy. Hermione hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but in retrospect she realised her apparent ease with him would appear strange to Harry, who hadn't witnessed Draco and Hermione's descent into friendship. Hermione smiled remembering the pleasant conversations and laughter – even Harry and Draco were chatting fairly amicably by the end of night. Her musings were interrupted by a knock at the bathroom door and she silently thanked the Gods that she had locked it before getting in the shower.

"Don't be too long, Min." Richards voice floated through the door, and Hermione grimaced. "Your parents want to leave in thirty minutes, and I want to say a proper hello to you."

"I'll be out soon." Hermione called back, pushing all pleasant thoughts to the back of her mind and pulling herself into the present.

Thirty minutes later, Hermione left her room and ventured out into the main area of the suite. Her mother and father were nowhere to be seen, but Richard was sat at the large dining table with a glass of whiskey in hand, looking over some papers. He looked up when Hermione entered the room, smiled and sprang from his seat.

"I'm sorry I didn't give you much of an 'hello' when you came in." He apologised, "you look beautiful, by the way."

Hermione smiled her well-rehearsed smile, "Thank you. Where are my parents? I thought they wanted to leave?" she asked.

"They did," Richard nodded, a slightly guilty look, "Victoria told me to tell you thirty minutes to ensure you were ready on time. The car wont be here for another fifteen minutes." He admitted, "Drink, while you wait?"

Hermione frowned and sat herself on the couch. "Once. It happened once that I was running a little bit late, and now my Mother refuses to let me live it down." Hermione grumbled as Richard poured her a drink with a chuckle.

"Here," he said, handing her a glass and taking a seat next to her, "So, had a good term? What was it like going back after a gap year?"

Hermione took a sip of her drink to cover her hesitation in answering. If this was Harry asking, she would have given him a blow-by-blow account, but what could she say to Richard? If she started talking about Hogsmede, Quidditch and a Hallowe'en ball where the fancy dress theme was Influential Muggles, he'd think she was high.

Hermione smiled and shrugged, "It took a little time to settle back into the routine I guess," she said honestly, "But it's been good, lessons are stepping up a notch, even I'm struggling with some of the work, and that's saying something." She joked and then shrugged again, "But, you know, school is school." She finished.

Luckily she was spared any interrogation on the subject as her parents exited their room, and the party of four could finally depart for the evening.

All in all, the evening shaped up to be a lot better than Hermione had anticipated: Her father and Richard spent most of the evening in conversation with each other, talking business, which left Hermione free to talk and laugh with her mother. Plenty of wine was drunk at the meal, and a few more glasses were had at the theatre, so that by the time the four were back in the car returning to the hotel, both Hermione and Victoria were a little tipsy and high on the feel-good feeling that the songs of ABBA had induced which resulted in a rather loud rendition of Take a Chance On Me by the girls, much to the amusement of the boys.

When they entered the suite, Hermione kicked of her shoes by the door and flung her coat carelessly over a dining chair, "I'm going to head to bed," she yawned.

"Thank you for this evening. I've had a wonderful night." She kissed both her parents on the cheek and then proceeded to her room. She was followed five minutes later by Richard who, as soon as the door was closed, came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Finally, I get you alone." He murmured against her neck. Hermione tried not to openly cringe, but she wriggled out his embrace all the same. Grabbing her pyjamas she headed to their bathroom.

"I'm going to change for bed, I'll take the one nearest the window." She told him before closing the door. When she emerged again Richard was still standing where she had left him.

"Are you kidding?" He asked, and Hermione heard the hurt and confusion in his voice.

She sighed, and turned to face him, "What do you mean?"

"I haven't seen you in months, you're my fiancé, there's supposed to be some sort of intimacy here, but all I'm getting is the cold shoulder." He said.

"I'm not giving you the cold shoulder," Hermione said patiently, quelling her rash Gryffindor spirit and summoning up the calm. "I'm just really tired this evening, it's been a long day. I didn't go to bed until about three, then I was up at six-thirty to pack before breakfast." She tried to explain. "I just want a good night's sleep, in my own bed. Please." She finished.

Richard and Hermione looked at each other for a moment longer, and then Richard seemed to hunch in defeat.

"Fine," he sighed, "I don't want to argue with you, especially with your parents just across the hall. I'll sleep in this bed." He said, sitting on the edge of the bed nearest to the door and taking of his shoes.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, before climbing into her own and turning off her bedside lamp. Hermione lay with her eyes closed and after a few moments of silence she heard Richard rise from his bed followed by his muffled footsteps and the opening and closing of the bedroom door. Opening her eyes she found she was alone. She lay awake for quite a while, and by the time she finally drifted off to sleep Richard still hadn't returned.

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_**A/N: Finally made it to the Christmas break, and I am super excited about the next chapters :) I've got a lot of it written, so hopefully the next few chapters will be up within a few days of themselves, once I get onto finishing them up and editing them right.**_

_**Until then, I hope you liked the chapter, please review and tell me your thoughts. And keep patient, we are now on the cusp of real Dramione moments I promise you :)**_

_**xBx**_


	19. Chapter 19: Patience

**_A/N: Sorry for the slight delay, but the update is here and I will have the next chapter, possibly two, up by the end of the week. Thank you to everyone who has read so far, and thank you especially for my reviews, and of course, a huge thank you for being so patient and waiting for these updates, you guys are great :)_**

**_xBx_**

* * *

**~ Chapter 19: Patience ~**

When Hermione awoke on Sunday morning, the room was as empty as when she had fallen asleep. In the silence, Hermione groaned and rolled over to face the room, immediately giving a sigh of relief when she saw that Richard's bed had most certainly been slept in, which was a good sign. Hermione would have hated for her parents to discover Richard sleeping on the couch.

So far, sticking to her plan hadn't gone too well – what had she told Malfoy the other night? That she would play her part, act as if everything was perfect, and plot her escape in secret. Malfoy had dubbed her plans as being 'Slytherinesque' but so far Hermione was struggling to find her inner serpent.

"I can do this!" She said to herself, rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling, "I can discover my inner Slytherin."

She snorted at the words – never in a million years did she ever expect to utter such a sentence. Expelling a large puff of air, Hermione flung the covers from her and forced herself up, out of bed and into the shower. She emerged from her room thirty minutes later, fully dressed and committed to her role.

Richard was sat on the large couch cradling a cup of tea with a newspaper open on his knees, he looked up as Hermione approached.

"Good Morning," He said with a very small smile, "How did you sleep?"

"Very well," Hermione smiled, as if she couldn't be happier that he was the first to greet her in the morning. "I certainly needed it. Where are my parents?" she asked suddenly, looking around.

"They've gone downstairs to organise a car to take you to the station." He said shortly, returning to his newspaper.

Hermione sighed, _let the play commence_ she thought to herself before moving toward the couch and taking a seat next to Richard. She waited a moment for him to look at her, but it when it became clear he wasn't about to indulge her, Hermione reached a hand to his furthest cheek and turned his face toward her.

"I'm sorry," she said, clearing her mind of any thoughts and feelings that might betray her words. "About last night. It had been an incredibly long day, at the end of a very tiring term. I just needed some space, some time to myself – when one lives at a school, personal space is nigh on impossible to come by. And after travelling all day, the evening was a little full on and a lot to take in, especially as it was rather unexpected." She smiled, and then added: "And I have missed you. Despite what my behaviour last night may have leaded you to believe."

Hermione waited with bated breath, silently praying that Richard would buy her words, and not realise the truth that she hoped was hidden securely behind her eyes. Suddenly he smiled, and covered her hand with his.

"I missed you too," He said, putting his forehead against hers, as relief swept over Hermione. "And I'm sorry also. I guess I overreacted, I should have realised how tired you must have been. It's been a busy few days for me also, conference calls and meetings: I had one here on Friday that lasted six hours, and I have another one tomorrow." He told her.

"Here, in London?" Hermione clarified, leaning back, "Or here, in this hotel?"

"Here in this_ suite_," Richard told her, "It's why I booked it. I've been here since Thursday."

"Ahhh, that makes more sense now," Hermione said with a small smile and Richard chuckled.

"Did you think we had this suite for one night only?" Richard laughed, "That would be a little extravagant, even for us, don't you think?" He joked and Hermione laughed with him.

"My thoughts exactly. So you won't be returning to Yorkshire with us, I take it?" She asked, praying she sounded more curious than hopeful.

"Afraid not, nor tomorrow. I'll be travelling up on Tuesday, so I get to enjoy the thrills of Christmas Eve traffic." He grimaced, before adding, "But don't worry, I will make it back in plenty of time for the party - on that I'm determined."

Hermione looked at him blankly, and felt a stirring of unease in the pit of her stomach, "Party?" she asked, somewhat warily.

"Yes, your Christmas party." He said slowly, frowning at her slightly, "Surely you can't have forgotten?"

"_My_ Christmas party?" Hermione clarified with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, your parents are the ones throwing it, so technically it's theirs, but it will be at your home – they didn't tell you?" He asked.

"Does this look like a face that's in the know?" Hermione asked, not managing to completely keep the contempt out of her voice and Richard chuckled.

"Please tell me that it's going to be a small affair, at the very least?" Hermione whined, but Richards grimace told her everything she needed to know and she dropped her head back into the cushions with a groan, "Is a quiet Christmas too much to ask?" She asked to no one in particular.

Hermione left London not long after lunch, finally arriving home a little after six. After unpacking her luggage she removed her engagement ring, placing it carefully back in its box, and proceeded to enjoy an evening of blissful freedom over at Grimmauld Place, where she had dinner with Harry and Ron. They thoroughly discussed the boys' work and Hermione's studies, though they concentrated primarily on the former, as Hermione was keen to know absolutely everything, particularly the classified information – naturally her boys obliged, and told her everything.

Despite the seeming ease of the evening, Hermione was constantly wary, wondering if Harry would broach the subject of Draco Malfoy and what she thought he might have witnessed between them at Slughorn's party. But Harry never ventured to mention the events of that evening; perhaps he was unwilling to begin the topic in front of Ron, for which Hermione was grateful, as she couldn't afford to be distracted by Malfoy any more than she already was.

Hermione spent all of Monday with Ginny, holed up in the library at Grimmauld Place, where the two of them attempted to get as much homework out of the way as possible, before they neglected it over Christmas and New Year. After a rather productive day, managing to complete three of their assignments, Hermione was putting back some of the books they had been using, when Harry entered.

"Is it five-thirty, already?" Ginny asked in lieu of a greeting, as this was Harry's usual time of arriving home.

"Half-past six, actually. I'm late today." He said with an apologetic grin, at which Ginny's face fell.

"Crap! Mum is going to kill me, I told her I would be home by six, and I promised her I wouldn't be late this time." She groaned, picking up her things and rushing for the door. Calling over her shoulder before she disappeared, "I'll see you for lunch, Christmas Day, 'Mione!"

"Bye Gin!" Hermione called out before fixing her attention on Harry, "Good day?" She smiled.

Harry shrugged, "Paperwork." He said as if this explained everything about his day and Hermione rolled her eyes, "How was yours?" He asked.

"Productive," Hermione smiled, "Thanks again for letting me use your library, I found a few books that really helped."

"No worries," Harry waved away the conversation and moving onto a topic he needed to talk about. "I wanted to ask you before you left, what do you think about having a New Years Eve party? Here?" He asked warily.

Hermione smiled, "It's your house," she pointed out, "If you want to throw a party, do it. It would be rather fun." She added as an afterthought.

"I know," agreed Harry, "But I've never thrown a party before – I have no idea where to start." He admitted, looking slightly uncomfortable, "I mean what do I do? Who do I invite, and how many? I mean, for example, I would obviously want to invite Andromeda, but she can't really leave Narcissa. I wouldn't mind Narcissa being here, but she's under house arrest – how do I get around that? I've also been in touch with my family – well, my Aunt once by letter, and Dudley mainly, I've had lunch with him a couple of times, I thought I'd quite like to invite him, maybe. And then there's food, drink, decorations. Hermione help." He finished, rather desperately and Hermione couldn't help but smile.

With a small shake of her head she attempted to advise him the best she could, "Okay. I'm also running late, so I'm going to have to keep it quick." She said briskly, before running off instructions:

"Firstly: food, drinks and decorations – keep it simple, you don't really need to decorate, just keep up the Christmas decorations. Ask Kreacher for help, I'm sure he will be happy to take care of the food. With the drinks, buy a selection and get people to bring a bottle of something, that way you certainly won't fall short of anything. Now, the guest list is very easy, invite a few of our Hogwarts friends, a few from your office, the Weasleys, obviously, and remaining members of the Order. Give people the option of a plus-one – it bumps up your guest list without you having to do the leg-work. I think inviting Dudley is a great idea, it would be good for you both to form some sort of relationship based on your own perceptions of each other, not what your Aunt and Uncle tell you. And as to Andromeda and Narcissa – well, Narcissa is under house arrest for her own safety more than anything, correct?"

Harry nodded, wide eyed and mouth slightly open as he tried to keep up with Hermione's fast slowing words,

"Well then, I would discuss it with Kingsley – if he is to attend, I see no reason why it shouldn't be safe for Narcissa to be given a reprieve for one evening. She will be here with her guardian, in the home of two Aurors and under the nose of the Minister for Magic: she would be in little danger of attack and it would be impossible for her to escape. Invite the whole family, Andromeda, Narcissa _and_ Malfoy – if you do that, you may want to consider extending an invite to Blaise Zabini," Hermione suggested as an afterthought, "Extend it through Ginny, it will keep her happy for the night, and Malfoy will have some company and moral support in a room full of former enemies, and Blaise is easy enough to get along with – he may be a Slytherin, but his family kept out of the Death Eaters, it makes him rather neutral." She finished briskly.

"Right," was all Harry managed to say as he tried to digest the wealth of information Hermione had fired at him.

"I have to go," Hermione smiled at him, "I won't see you tomorrow, but I will see you Christmas day, at the Burrow." She told him, then patted his arm as he still looked a little overwhelmed, "Don't worry, you'll be fine; your first party will be a success. Concentrate on getting invites out first, and after Christmas I can help a little with preparations. But ask Kreacher for help, I'm sure he has helped the Blacks with numerous parties in the past, he will know what to do."

###

So far, Draco's holidays were shaping up to be the strangest he had ever had, and he had only been home all of three days. The place was barely recognisable as the house he had left only fourteen weeks ago – his mother and aunt Andromeda had certainly been busy in his absence and the manor was much the better for it. It was no longer cold, dark and unwelcoming, but full of light, warmth and colour with certain touches which left the place feeling a lot more like a home than it had ever done before.

There was also a baby in the house, which was a brand new experience for Draco having been an only child. What was even stranger was that little Teddy Lupin seemed to have taken an instant liking to him and no one had ever taken an instant liking to Draco Malfoy in his entire existence.

But the strangest thing to happen occurred over breakfast on Christmas Eve, when Narcissa informed her son that 'Harry' would be joining them for dinner this evening. Yep, Harry Potter would be dining at Malfoy Manor, and just when Draco thought things could not get any weirder, he discovered that Potter joining his mother and Aunt was not uncommon (even Weasley had joined the party once or twice!), but also his mother and Potter were now on a first name basis.

Draco had spent the first few days of his holiday immersed in his studies, holed up in the family library, but today he had intended be sociable and spend the day in his mother's company, which is why he was in the south wing, cleaning out the rooms that had once belonged to his grandmother before she passed away several years ago. No one had entered them since, which meant that all the clutter his grandmother had accumulated was still there gathering dust – and not all of it was harmless trinkets and nick-knacks. There were cupboards full of potions, some of which were innocent enough, but others that were deadly and needed to be disposed of very carefully. There were bookshelves full of interesting books, some of which Draco and Narcissa decided to keep and add to the family library, others were either too old or too unsavoury to even think of keeping.

As they cleared the clutter, a house elf followed them around helping to dispose of the bags of rubbish they collected, and thoroughly cleaning the room itself and the bits that remained in it. As they worked, Draco and Narcissa talked properly for the first time in years: during the Dark Lord's ascent to power and his year of reign, the Malfoys were so busy securing the well practiced masks that they were intending to present to the world that they often forgot to let the mask down in the home. But now that the war was over, and Lucius was in gaol unable to sniff his disapproval at publicly displayed emotions, Narcissa and Draco were able to try and regain some of that closeness they used to have when Draco was younger.

They talked mainly of school, and Narcissa was happy to hear that Draco wasn't having a particularly difficult time – she had rather feared, and expected, that being the son of a notorious Death Eater as well as being branded with the mark himself would have made him a social pariah, but it seemed the scandal of his return had blown over rather quickly. Helped of course, Narcissa was quick to realise, by the amount of time he seemed to be spending with Hermione Granger. Narcissa couldn't help but notice how often her name was mentioned, and she gathered from her son's words, that the two heads were taking great advantage of having a tower to themselves – they never seemed to go anywhere else, both using it as a safe haven to escape the stares.

Narcissa was also treated to an update on the relationship status of Blaise; Narcissa had always liked Blaise, ever since he was young, and she had encouraged the friendship much more than Lucius ever did – Lucius had preferred Draco to keep company with Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, simply because their fathers were in the same fold as Lucius. And while Narcissa was forced to conform to her husband's ideals, she wished she could keep Draco away from them. The Zabinis kept themselves to themselves; they were a prominent Italian family, and had only moved to England a year after Draco had been born. The Malfoys were the only family the Zabinis really interacted with, and Narcissa was the only person they seemed able to get along with.

As they progressed into the bedchamber and began going through the closets, the conversation turned to the renovations being undertaken at the Manor and Draco smiled to see how happy his mother was. He had not seen her smile like this in years, not since before he had started Hogwarts, and he was glad that she finally seemed to be finding some happiness after the war. He also noticed that Andromeda was beginning to rub off on her: she was a lot more talkative now, and more opinionated – or perhaps she had always been opinionated, she just never felt she could fully express them? Either way, she was certainly expressing them now.

"I have no idea how your father will react when he sees what we've done to his house," Narcissa admitted as they began rifling through a large jewellery box, "but I suppose he'll have to live with it. Anything he doesn't like he can change himself – and we both know how that will end." She commented with a roll of her eyes, causing Draco to smirk as he pulled out a small box roughly the size of his palm. Opening it he discovered a pair of expensive looking earrings of emerald, diamond and platinum (at first he thought they were silver, but upon closer inspection he noticed the true value of the metal.)

"Wow," he said, sounding slightly shocked; "these look a little bit too…" he seemed to struggle for the right word, "pretty for Granny."

Narcissa snorted – yes, actually snorted with laughter at her son's words. He smirked and held out the box for his inspection. Narcissa took it from him and inspected the fingernail-sized emeralds that hung from the diamond stud, encased in the serpentine platinum spirals.

"You're right," Narcissa agreed with a laugh, "They're certainly not her style. Perhaps they were intended as a gift." She shrugged, "What shall we do with them?"

"Do you not want them?" Draco asked, and Narcissa shook her head.

"I doubt they would suit me." She said simply, handing the back to Draco so he could replace the lid.

Draco looked at them thoughtfully for a moment, and then said, "Would you mind if I take them?"

Narcissa looked up, slightly surprised, "I don't think they'd suit you either, darling, if I'm being truly honest." She said slowly, trying to restrain a smile.

Draco gave her a deadpan look, "Very droll, mother." He commented, causing her to laugh, "But I wasn't thinking of wearing them myself, believe it or not. But I do know someone whom these would suit very well, and it may help her find her inner-Slytherin which I'm sure she is struggling to find right now."

Narcissa looked at her son intently, but his face was giving nothing away as to whom he was thinking of right now, though she had a thought as to who it may be.

"Of course," she said, "Someone should get some wear out of them, and they are far too pretty to hide away. Only run some tests on them before you give them – my Mother-in-law was a bitch, I wouldn't put anything past her."

It was Draco's turn to snort with derision, "Aunt Andromeda is certainly having an influence on you."

###

Hermione was woken on Christmas Eve by her bedroom door opening loudly and her curtains being dragged open to let in the weak winter sun.

"Come one, 'Min. Time to get up love, we have a lot to do." Victoria's voice floated across the room, sounding far too chearful for this early in the morning. Hermione groaned, rolled over and forced her eyes open to look at the clock on her bedside table.

"Seriously, Mother? It's eight AM." Hermione moaned.

"Yes, and we have lots to do before the party tonight." Victoria reiterated: Hermione should have been prepared for this, her mother was incorrigible when it came to planning events and Hermione always ended up being roped in if she was home.

"Guest will not be arriving until eight _PM_, it's not going to take twelve hours to get everything ready." Hermione grumbled, pulling the covers over her head, in a desperate attempt to make it all disappear.

"No, but we also have to get ourselves ready. Lisa will be coming over at ten to prep your hair for this evening." Victoria explained and Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this new piece of information.

"Prep my hair?" she asked incredulously, flinging the covers from her head to look her mother in they eye, "I know my hair can be unruly, but it doesn't take ten hours to 'prep' whatever the hell that means." Hermione complained.

Victoria rolled her eyes, "I am aware of that, she is simply going to treat it, loosen your curls so that they are more sleek and manageable as opposed to frizzy and uncontrollable." When Hermione still looked less than impressed, Victoria continued, "You'll thank me for it later, now get out of bed and come and have breakfast."

Hermione sighed, "Alright fine. Just give me five minutes to sort myself out and I will be down." She relented, making her mother's smile even wider.

Her mother left the room and Hermione dragged herself out of bed, not looking forward to this evening one bit. A night pretending to be the happy little heiress, faking a laugh to all her parent's high society Muggle friends and business associates, and no doubt being paraded around the room on Richard's arm as he showed off the gem of society he would be marrying while she flashed the ostentations rock on her finger under the eyes of the simpering girls.

"What in the name of Merlin's balls have I got myself into?" Hermione asked herself as pulled her dressing gown on. "Deep breaths," she told herself, closing her eyes, "Quell the Lioness. You can not afford to be hot-headed and rash, you need to be calm and collected."

The morning wasn't nearly as bad as Hermione had expected it to be: breakfast was really quite enjoyable, just herself and her mother. There was no talk of wedding plans, as Victoria's thoughts were consumed with this evening's soiree. And when it came to ten o'clock, Lisa was barely there for half an hour, and Hermione didn't have to be subjected to much fussing. All she had to do was keep her hair dry for the rest of the day and the curls would remain tame and easy to style later on.

Hermione spent most of the morning, and a portion of the afternoon, with her mother in the Ballroom. As tonight's party would consist of less than one hundred guests, they decided the formal dining room was not needed, which cut down the preparation time by half. Instead, small tables were set up around the edge of the ballroom, providing enough room to sit and chatter, as well as ample space to move and migle. The caterers and bar staff arrived around midday; Victoria led the catering staff down to the kitchen, giving them strict instructions on what could be used and what couldn't, leaving Hermione to guide the bar staff into the generously sized anteroom, which would serve as their bar room for the evening.

A little after five Victoria sought out her daughter, who was still in the Ballroom helping lay the table decorations.

"Thank you for your help, darling." Victoria smiled, putting an arm around her daughter, "The place looks fantastic."

Hermione laughed, "Not my doing, mother. You were the one who planned it, and these are the ones who executed it. I just did as I was told."

"Well, it still looks brilliant. Now you need to go and shower, Emma will be here in half an hour to do your hair and make-up." Victoria said, and Hermione groaned.

"Couldn't I just do it myself?" Hermione asked, slightly pleading. "It seems an awful waste of someone's time to do something I'm perfectly capable of doing myself."

"Be that as it may, she will be here, and it would be rude to send her away after making the trek out here." Victoria said with a smile, "And you know you love it when people play with your hair, don't deny it." She added.

Hermione couldn't deny it, her mother had her there, and she grinned in spite of herself, "Fine, I submit. I'll go."

When Hermione emerged from her bathroom in her dressing gown twenty minutes later, Emma was waiting for her in her sitting room.

"I hope you kept your hair dry," a familiar voice called out, and Hermione couldn't help but smile. Emma had been doing Hermione's hair and make-up for Victoria's many parties for years, and was well aware of how little Hermione enjoyed the tedious preparation. Emma knew exactly how Hermione liked her hair, and it was done with little fuss and lots of friendly banter.

Hermione was ready to dress within another half hour, and after saying her goodbyes to Emma, she glanced at the clock over the fireplace. It had only just gone six-thirty, her parents would be busy in their own rooms, no one would be arriving for well over an hour and everyone else would either be cooking in the kitchen, or polishing glasses in the Ballroom. This was a perfect opportunity to get into her parents study and find the accounts books she needed, and she wasn't going to waste it.

Dressed in nothing but her dressing gown she padded lightly down the stairs to the office on the ground floor, and found the accounting books on the large bookcase where they usually were. Just as she was pulling the most recent business one from it's shelve, the door opened and her father entered, already dressed for the evening, stopping short when he saw her.

"Hermione, what on earth are you doing?" He asked, highly surprised, "Shouldn't you be getting dressed?"

"It won't take me long to put on a dress," she said simply, "I was looking for the accounting books." She told him.

"Why?" Anthony asked, raising an eyebrow and pouring himself a Scotch. Hermione bit her lip, wondering how much truth to tell her father, or weather to simply lie.

Anthony sensed his daughter's hesitation and smiled, "Come on, Min. We never have any secrets."

Hermione couldn't help it, she bristled at the comment, "Don't we?" she challenged, "So, why didn't you tell me the main reason Mother and yourself are so set on my match with Richard is simply for the acquisition of the Alden fortune?"

Anthony seemed to deflate slightly at his daughter's words. "Ah," was all he managed to say, and Hermione rolled her eyes. In that moment she decided on only telling him part of the reason she was there, and in an instant her cool and calculative exterior was back in place.

"Honestly, father, I know we don't discuss money – it isn't the done thing -" she repeated the sentence that had been drilled into her from an early age,

"But if the money is the reason for my marriage you should at least have the courtesy to tell me. I'm in here to grab some of the accounting books so I can look the, over. I want to know our full financial situation, including the business, the house and our other investments. If I am to inherit, I need to know what I'm inheriting. And if I am going to approach my husband for money to invest, I would like to know the exact sum I will be requesting, how I will be planning to spend it, and what I expect to get as a return from the investment. I am not a trophy-wife, nor do I not intend to be turned into one. I will be managing the business, and I intend to do it with a full knowledge of its incomings and outgoings." Hermione ranted calmly, running her eyes over the shelves and taking down another couple of books.

Her words were greeted only with silence, and Hermione turned to face her father to see him looking at her appraisingly. It was true that she wanted a thorough understanding of their financial standing, and it was true she wanted to know how much money was needed, what it was needed for, and when it was needed by. What she didn't tell him was that she would be searching for alternative means of acquiring it, and this would be her way to get out of the wretched engagement – her father didn't need to know that part.

Anthony walked to his daughter's side, "Alright," he said. "The red ledgers are the house accounts, the blue ones are for the practice – you'll notice there are three books per year, one for each practice. This black one," he took the large volume from the shelf, "Is a five-year review of the business, you'll need that it will save you tedious hours of crunching the numbers from fifteen books." He said with a sly smile, "The green ones are for our other investments. I would suggest looking over the ones from the last two years. This year's books are only half done, but everything from July onwards is on my computer, I'll print it off for you after Christmas. Oh and," he grabbed a couple of accounting textbooks and handed them to Hermione, "You will be needing these. Trust me." He added.

Hermione smiled, "Thank you," she said, "Would you mind if I take them now? I won't be looking over them right this instance, but I would like to have them at hand, in my rooms."

"I'll help you take them up," Anthony said, "But I would hurry, it's nearing seven-thirty and you mother will kill us both if she knew we were down here talking business instead of getting ready."

After placing the multiple tombs on the decent sized study table of her sitting room, Hermione ushered her father from her rooms, promising she would get dressed directly and wouldn't get distracted by the books.

True to her promise she walked back into her bedroom and directly to the closet to find a dress for tonight, trying not to think of how late she was running. She exhaled loudly as she scanned the dresses that would be fit for the evening – nearly all were strapless, which would perfectly display the large dragon burn on her right shoulder. Hermione couldn't help but chuckle as she imagined trying to explain that one to a room full of Muggles.

Finally, she found the perfect dress: Emerald green satin and ivory lace. The dress had a semi-fitted bodice and a floor-length, simple skirt with a long split up one leg, allowing for the fabric to fall and move around her in a more seductive way. At the waist, a wide strip of ivory lacing accented her curves, and the same lace began at the top of the satin bodice, extending the dress to her neckline. The dress with sleeveless, but the lace covered her shoulders, before cutting away into a backless design, the dress beginning again at the lace waistband.

The top of the dress fastened at the nape of with three rather fiddly buttons, and Hermione was beginning to get frustrated with the issues she seemed to be having when she was distracted by a cracking sound coming from her bedroom.

She stopped, hands frozen on the two pieces of fabric, and listened intently, "What the…" she mumbled, and then her eyes widened in shock as a voice called out.

"Geez, Granger. You weren't kidding when you said you had money. Your room is twice the size of the one back at Hogwarts, I can only imagine the size of the rest of the house."

"It's nothing to Malfoy Manor, I can assure you." Hermione said, emerging from her dressing room and coming face-to-face with a smirking Draco Malfoy, one hand holding the dress to her chest so it didn't fall and the other picking up the skirt so she wouldn't stumble – without heels the dress brushed the floor a little more than she liked.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?" She asked him, "No, no, what the hell are you doing in my_ bedroom_? And more to the point, how did you even find the place, I haven't removed the Fidelius charm."

Draco chuckled, "You told me your address, remember? You were ranting a little, it's true, and alcohol may have assisted you in divulging the secret." He told her, and Hermione remembered.

"Right," she said, "That still doesn't explain why you're here." She pointed out, but Draco still didn't answer. Instead his eyes raked over her appearance.

"I take it you have plans?" he asked, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"My parents are hosting a little Christmas party. And I'm running late, so while you're here you may as well be useful." She said walking up to him, turning her back on him, and pulling her hair over her left shoulder, in doing so she inadvertently flashed the large ruby in Draco's face. "Could you fasten me up, Please? I can't do them and it's starting to piss me off."

Draco chuckled, though he had been frowning a moment before not pleased to see the ring still on her finger. He obliged, however, delicately fastening the three buttons, and trying not to stare at the soft skin so ruthlessly exposed to him. He couldn't help but notice (in his not so brilliant efforts at not staring) the few scars across her back, and it took all his effort to restrain from running a finger over them.

Draco was stood so close to her, that Hermione could feel his breath tickling against her neck, and while it sent tingles down her spine and set her heart racing, she tried desperately not to let it show. But when he fastened the final button, Draco's hand accidentally grazed against Hermione's skin; the touch was so gentle, and so brief, it was barely a touch, but it was enough to make Hermione shiver in a very good way.

Draco smirked at the reaction to his touch, but never said a word, instead he took a small step back and Hermione turned around to face him, tossing her hair back over her shoulder.

"Thank you," she said, "Now, for the third time, why are you here?" she asked.

"Right," Draco said, remembering why he was there in the first place, and pulled out a box that was the size of his palm. "I thought you might like these," he said holding out the box to her.

"It's not a Christmas present or anything," he added quickly, seeing her face and guessing correctly, "So don't worry about getting me anything in return. We've been clearing out the manor, and we found these. No one is going to wear them and I thought they might suit you. Incidentally, they will go great with your dress. A lot better than the rock you're still sporting."

Hermione frowned, "The rock is unfortunately a necessity. For now, at least." She added with a smirk, before taking the box, "But thank you,"

"Thank me after you open it, you might hate it." Draco joked. But when Hermione lifted the lid to reveal the emerald earrings, her intake of breath certainly didn't indicate hate.

"These are beautiful," Hermione whispered, "why?" She asked, looking back up to see Draco shrug.

"Why not? Like I said, no one is going to wear them, and I thought they would look good on you. And don't worry, I've double and triple checked them, they have no jinx or curse upon them, they're completely safe to wear." He joked.

Hermione smiled, "Thank you," she said again, taking them from the box and putting them on. "And you're right, they're perfect for tonight. A lot better than this thing," she laughed, flashing her ring, and this time Draco let her see his frown.

"It's really necessary?" He asked.

"Of course," Hermione said, looking shocked he would suggest it wasn't. "No doubt we'll announce the engagement, and of course I'll want to show off the ring, what with me being a happy bride-to-be on the brink of perfect happiness." She smiled.

Draco snorted, "You almost had me convinced there," He told her and Hermione laughed. "As long as you're not convincing yourself." Draco added.

"Don't be ridiculous," she told him, "I have everything I need in my sitting room to find my escape clause. I just have to convince the others all is well for the time being, so that I can plot in peace." Hermione looked down at her ring, "However, the ring this evening does pose a slight problem." She said, pondering the ruby intently.

"How so?" Draco probed, when Hermione didn't look like she would continue.

"Well, everyone will be expecting to see it. But when I flash my left hand around, I'm also flashing my left forearm," she told him, holding up said arm to display the Mudblood scar, still etched there.

"I really don't fancy trying to explain that to a room full of Muggles. I have gloves I can wear," Hermione continued, "But that would mean removing the ring."

"I'm so sorry," Draco whispered quietly, and Hermione looked up at him in surprise. He was no longer meeting her eye.

"What for?" She asked him, quietly, though she knew full well where the conversation would be going.

"What for?" He repeated, looking up at her incredulously, "For what my deranged Aunt did to you, and doing nothing to stop it." He said hotly, turning away from Hermione, but not quickly enough that she didn't notice the torment in her eyes.

"You have nothing to apologise for," Hermione told him quietly, taking a step towards him and placing a hand on his shoulder trying to get him to turn around. When he didn't move she let her hand drop.

"You didn't do this to me, and there was nothing you could do to stop them." Hermione took a deep breath, and then spoke the words she never thought she would speak, especially not to him.

"I saw your face that night. In those brief respites from your Aunt's curses, I was able to take in some of my surroundings, and I saw your face. You were the only one who didn't look at me, but I still saw the conflict in your eyes. I also saw your father, his hand on your shoulder stopping you from moving." Draco had gone completely still; it was as if he wasn't even breathing, but Hermione continued.

"When your aunt had had her fill of the Cruciatus curse, and took up the blade instead-"

"Please, Hermione, stop." Draco interrupted her, and Hermione was surprised to hear a slight shake to his voice. "It was bad enough witnessing it, I don't need to relive it in my waking hours as well."

Hermione ignored him and continued, only vaguely registering the new use of her first name, "When she started carving into me, I saw you take a stop forward – in that moment I could see you wanted to help me, but your father pulled you back, forced you to stay put, and suddenly your mask was back in place. And thank the God's he did-"

"How can you say that?" Draco demanded, finally turning to face Hermione again "Your screams still haunt me every night, and you thank the gods that no one helped you?"

"I thank the Gods _you_ didn't help me, Draco!" She reiterated, using his first name for the first time. In the heat of moment it slipped out; it rolled off her tongue like the most natural thing in the world and she was barely aware. But Draco noticed, and his anger immediately dissapated.

"What would they have done to you if you had succeeded?" She continued, "They would have made you torture me yourself, before passing me over to Fenrir Greyback. They would have made you watch while he…" Draco looked away from her again, not even wanting to think of contemplating Hermione's next words that she was clearly struggling to find.

"-did what he was going to do, before killing me." Hermione continued, "Then they would have probably killed you too. There was nothing you could do to stop it happening, so you have to stop blaming yourself. If anything, I should be thanking you." She said suddenly.

Still Draco wouldn't look her in the eye, but she caught his incredulous expression at this recent declaration. Hermione put her hand on Draco's cheek and made him look at her.

"You knew who we were the moment you saw us, I saw the recognition in your eyes, and yet you lied. If you hadn't, Voldemort would have been summoned and we would have been killed instantly. Instead, you bought us time. And while being tortured was horrific, it still gave Harry and Ron the time to figure a way out. And what's more, Bellatrix got nothing out of me: I didn't break under the torture, I didn't tell her the truth, but she gave me a lot of valuable information without realising what she was doing." Hermione told him honestly. "Without that information, we wouldn't have been able to go on and find the way to destroying Voldemort for good."

"What do you-" Draco started to ask, but Hermione shook her head.

"I can't explain, not right now. It's an incredibly long story and I am running incredibly late." She began, but was interrupted by the sound of her door opening.

Immediately, suddenly realising the rather compromising position they were in, Hermione and Draco took a step apart as Victoria entered the room.

"Hermione, why are you not- Oh." Victoria stopped mid sentence, noticing that her daughter was not alone. "This seems rather cosy, and slightly inappropriate." She added, looking at her daughter with a raised eyebrow, inviting her to explain.

Hermione sighed, "Mother, this is Draco Malfoy," she introduced, "We go to school together, he's Head Boy so we've been sharing a tower since September." Hermione explained.

"Draco Malfoy, this is my Mother: Victoria Granger." Hermione finished.

"A pleasure to meet you," Draco said, feeling slightly awkward. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, or make you late, I just called by to drop something off."

Victoria smiled, "That's quite alright, it was lovely to meet you," she said politely, before turning back to her daughter, "Hermione, guests will be arriving in ten minutes, Richard is already waiting for you, so I would suggest you hurry. Will you be joining us this evening, Mr Malfoy?" She added, turning back to Draco, who looked uncomfortably at Hermione, clearly unsure how best to respond.

Hermione answered for him, "Will that be a problem, Mother?" she asked, not giving a definitive answer.

"Not at all," Victoria smiled politely, "Though I would suggest he arrives from the entrance, and not from your bedroom." She said significantly, as she turned to leave.

Hermione waited for mother to leave the sitting room before turning to Draco. "You don't have to join us," she said. "I mean you can if you would like, I won't deny it would be nice to have someone I can talk freely to. But I realise you probably have other plans, with your family."

"Surprisingly not." Draco smirked, "Well, Potter is having dinner with us, but I can miss that. I would quite like to see the little Muggle heiress on parade." He mocked.

Hermione scowled, "Do you think you can withstand a night in the presence of a room full of Muggles?" She mocked back.

Draco smirked, and quirked his eyebrow, "Better than you can, I'd wager. Remember, I've been a Slytherin for years: hiding my true emotions and making people believe what I want them to believe is easy for me. But this is your first time in the snake pit, as it were. Can you really let go of your Gryffindor sensibilities for a full night?" He challenged.

Hermione smirked, "Challenge accepted. Go change, be back in thirty minutes, you'll have to apparate outside the gates I'm afraid, and walk up the drive. It should only take you five minutes. And then you can see what I'm really made of – out here in the Muggle world, I'm not the Gryffindor you think you know, you might even be surprised." She promised.

Draco didn't respond but turned on the spot and disappeared. Hermione turn back to her dresser, where she removed her engagement ring and threaded it onto a gold chain which she fastened around her neck, knowing full well she would have to have it on her person some how. She then slipped into her satin heels and picked up her gloves, pulling the on as she rushed out of her room.

* * *

_**A/N: Thanks for reading, a little bit of a slow chapter, I know and I'm sorry. But I'll be getting onto the next chapter first thing in the morning, it's all about the party and it will be fun :)**_

_**xBx**_


	20. Chapter 20: Crossing Lines

_**A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews to the last chapter - I'm sorry I didn't reply to them, but I did read them, and I'm truly loving the support. You guys are fantastic!**_

_**Anyway, here is the party, I hope you enjoy the chapter (I think you might like the ending ;) ...hopefully)**_

_**xBx**_

* * *

**~ Chapter 20: Crossing Lines ~**

As soon as Draco apparated back into his bedroom, he called out for his favourite house elf. A moment later the elf appeared with a loud crack.

"Master called for Botley?" He squeaked.

"Yes, do you recall the Muggle suit I had made over summer?" Draco asked.

"Is Master speaking of the one he brought home from Italy?" Botley clarified.

"Yes, that one. I'll need it for this evening, but I can't remember where I placed it." Draco told the elf, "Could you possibly find it for me, and see that it's ready to wear by the time I get out of the shower?" He asked.

"Certainly sir," the house elf bowed, "Botley knows exactly where it is and can fetch it this instance."

"Thank you," Draco said as the elf disappeared with another crack. Just as Draco was making his way to his bathroom there was a knock at his door, and his mother's voice floated through the wood.

"Draco where have you been? Did you forget we have a guest this evening?" She asked.

Draco sighed and pulled open his door, "How did you even know I had gone?" he asked.

Narcissa frowned as she took in her son's appearance, "My clock," She said simply before chastising him,

"You're not even dressed, Harry got here half an hour ago. What have you been doing?" She asked again.

"I'm very sorry mother, but I won't be joining you for dinner. I have somewhere else I need to be." He said politely, trying to control his grin, "And as you have just pointed out, I am still not dressed, so if you will excuse me, I only have twenty-five minutes to remedy this." He said with a smile.

Narcissa rolled her eyes, "Before you go, the earrings you took earlier?"

"Yes," Draco said slowly, praying his mother wasn't about to change her mind about them.

"Could you show them to Andie before you gift them, only I told her about them and she'd like to see them." Narcissa asked.

"My apologies again, but they are currently sitting in the ears of a very beautiful woman." Draco told her, not bothering to check his words – he was in too much of a hurry and was barely aware of what he was saying.

"Indeed," Narcissa gave a restrained smile, trying to maintain her mirth at this new side of her son that she was seeing. "And would this happen to be the same woman whom you are going to this evening?" she asked, in feigned nonchalance.

Draco smirked, "Perhaps," he said evasively, "Now, don't you have a guest you should be entertaining?" He prompted.

"Fine," Narcissa conceded to let her son be, "But please behave yourself, don't get into any trouble, and please don't do anything stupid. Our name is still on trial and we have a long way to go." She reminded him.

Draco grinned, "I can promise to try," he compromised, thinking of his long over-due introduction to Richard Alden that would be happening shortly. No doubt he would despise the man instantaneously, based on everything Granger had ever said about the guy, and he was very much looking forward to being the arrogant and intimidating Slytherin towards him.

Narcissa rolled her eyes and turned to leave, knowing full well that forbidding her son to do anything would simply make certain that he did it.

###

Hermione was stood beside the double doors leading into the ballroom, in line with her parents and Richard, welcoming the guests as they entered. She had been at it for half an hour already, but never did her smile falter: She smiled happily as she greeted as if seeing these people were the only Christmas gift she could have wanted, despite forgetting some of their names mere moments after the went away; she thanked them when they complimented her dress and she beamed when a few gave whispered congratulations, and she showed them the engagement ring hanging around her neck with an enthusiasm that befitted the most happiest woman in the world.

All the while she played her part, Richard had one arm around her back resting lightly, yet possessively, on her hip, and Hermione smiled through it despite the grim shivers she felt at Richard's touch.

"How long do we have to stay here?" Hermione asked politely, as the latest arrivals walked away from them, the throng of arrivals finally dwindling. Victoria turned to Hermione, and spoke with a smile, almost as fake as her daughters - this was the most tedious part of the evening for Victoria.

"As long as takes, darling." Victoria shrugged, "Once all the guests have arrived we will be free to mingle."

Hermione sighed, "Why is it that the waiters never come around here with the drinks?" She asked, more to herself than anyone, though the comment didn't escape her Mother's ears.

"Really Hermione, you are beginning to sound like an alcoholic," Victoria chastised, but Hermione saw her father smile at her with laughter in his eyes, he didn't seem to mind at least.

"I have been holding the same glass for forty minutes, that hardly makes me an alcoholic," Hermione sighed, and then smirking she suddenly added: "Besides, alcoholics go to meetings. I do not, which makes me a drunk: we go to parties. There is a world of difference."

Hermione felt Richard turn away to hide his mirth, but she plainly saw her father chuckling – at least someone here appreciated her humour. Victoria however looked less than impressed, instead she took a very deep calming breath, but refrained from a reprimand as another guest was being shown into the room.

Richard leaned down and whispered in her ear, "You shouldn't wind her up too much, it's hardly fair."

Hermione giggled, ever keeping up the pretence, and looked up at him with a grin muttering: "spoil-sport."

At the same moment, the man on the door announced the new arrival, "Mr Draco Malfoy."

_Finally!_ Hermione thought, turning away from Richard and stepping forward with a smile. Richard echoed her movements, keeping his hand on her waist.

"Nice of you to finally show," Hermione said with a smile, "Allow me to introduce you," She looked to her parents, missing the brief glance Draco took to the hand resting possessively on her waist. Draco didn't like that at all, in fact he was surprised by just how much he didn't like it and he was determined to resolve the issue quickly.

"This is Draco Malfoy," Hermione was saying, "We got to school together, we've been in the same year all along – neither of us finished last year, so we both returned to complete our education. The Malfoys hold a large estate in Wiltshire that has been in the family for many generations." She looked back at Draco, "This is my Father, Anthony Granger-"

Draco shook his hand, "An honour to meet you Sir. Thank you for inviting me into your home." He said, bringing out the best of the Malfoy manners.

Hermione smiled, "My Mother, Victoria, you've already met."

"Mr Malfoy," Victoria held out her hand, which Draco took but instead of shaking it he brought it up and gently pressed his lips against it.

"Mrs Granger, it's delightful to see you again, I'm sorry if I'm terribly late." He said and Hermione tried not to laugh or show her shock – this was certainly a side of Draco Malfoy she had never seen before. Hell, she didn't even think it existed.

Victoria suppressed a small giggle, "Hermione didn't tell me you were such an old-fashioned gentlemen."

Draco turned on his faithful Malfoy charm and gave Victoria a roughish grin that Hermione knew had already broken more than it's fair share of hearts, "Forgive me, my mother always tells me that gentlemen nowadays have no idea of the true meaning of the word. My family try to retain as much of the old charm as possible."

"I quite agree. Though your Mother has raised her son well, I believe you are quite the true gentleman." Victoria told him.

Hermione couldn't believe it: less than five minutes and already he had Victoria Granger eating out of the palm of his hand - a very impressive feat considering that less than an hour ago she was less than impressed at his presence in her daughter's bedroom.

"And this," Hermione said, pulling Draco's attention back to the introductions, "Is Richard Alden. My fiancé." She added with the well-rehearsed happy smile.

Draco turned his smile onto the man beside her; it was a very different smile to the one he had bestowed on her mother – that had been rather inviting. But this one was cold and almost intimidating, however it appeared that no one else had noticed the change except Hermione - when had she started reading him so well?.

"Pleased to meet you," Draco said, holding out his left hand with a slight smirk. Hermione knew at once what he was doing and grinned in spite of herself: In order to shake Draco's hand, Richard would have to remove his hand from Hermione's waist – that, or be incredibly rude to a guest.

"Nice to meet you," Richard said deciding on the honourable route and taking Draco's hand. "Hermione hasn't really told much about you," Richard confessed with a smile, but Hermione heard the double meaning: In Richard's eyes, Draco Malfoy was already seen as a threat, and he wanted to intimidate him by suggesting that he wasn't worth mentioning.

Draco smirked; he wasn't new to these kinds of games, and he expertly returned the back-hand by saying: "Hermione's told me even less about you."

Before Richard could respond, or place his arm back around her, Hermione took a step toward Draco.

"Why don't I introduce you around the room, and help you to mingle." Hermione said to Draco, gracefully linking her arm in his and steering him away in an attempt to diffuse the tension before it boiled over so early in the evening.

As they walked away, Hermione glanced back to Richard giving him her warmest smile, "I'll find you later, Darling." She promised, before turning her attention to Draco.

"Let's start over there," Hermione suggested, steering him towards a waiter carrying a full tray of champagne around the crowd.

"You're going to acquaint me with the wait staff? Seriously?" Draco asked, with a raised eyebrow, and his customary smirk.

"No," Hermione smiled, "I intend for us to become acquainted with the contents of his tray."

Draco laughed and allowed him to be steered across the room, "Quite the little show you're putting on. I swear if I hadn't heard you talk about him at school, I would be quite convinced of your undying love for him," Draco said mockingly yet appraisingly at the same time.

Hermione smiled a slightly mischievous smiled, as she replaced her empty glass with a full one, "What can I say? I'm good at what I do." She smirked.

"So, that was your fiancé." Draco stated in a forced casual tone, taking a glass of his own from the tray, and Hermione smiled sweetly.

"Yes, didn't you find him simply marvellous?" Hermione gushed, like a lovesick teenager, for the benefit of the couple just passing them by.

"Not particularly." Draco said quietly, "Though I do believe he's quite the jealous type, and I'm determined to confirm it by the end of the night." He declared, giving her his classic roguish grin.

Hermione raised her eyebrows with a sly smile, "Oh really? And just how are you going to confirm it?" She challenged. Draco simply smirked, lifted his glass to his lips and winked, causing Hermione to laugh and shake her head.

"Please don't antagonise him," she asked, after taking a sip of champagne. "I would hate for a fight to break out."

"Me? Antagonise?" Draco said, in over-dramatic shock, "Would I ever?"

Hermione frowned, but Draco saw the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth: she could bite her cheek as much as she wanted, Draco knew that she was amused. She was spared answering him, however, when a couple of the guests came over toward them and Hermione slipped effortlessly back into her role as the happy little heiress.

Draco watched her intently while the evening progressed, as she introduced him to acquaintances that were forever moving their way. He also noted how she seemed to always be moving in the opposite direction of her fiancé, so that even after a couple of hours they had yet to come in contact with him again.

"I must admit," Hermione said to Draco, as another guest walked away from them, "I'm surprised at how well you're doing."

"What do you mean by that?" He asked, taking a couple of drinks from the waiter walking by and silently handing one to her.

"Well, I honestly thought that by now you would be betraying some signs of discomfort. You are a Malfoy in a room full of Muggles, after all." She joked, and Draco tried not to take offence by her words.

"Please don't judge me by my name, and the connotations my ancestors have brought to it." He said quietly, but he smiled to take the edge of his words.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, her smile dropping for the first time, "I didn't mean-"

"It's fine," Draco cut her off, still smiling, and putting a hand to her arm to assure her there were no hard feelings. "I know my family have made a lot of mistakes, and that I have a lot of work ahead of me to change the way people view us. I guess tonight is a little like a first step."

"Well, you're doing marvellously well," Hermione said, finding her composure again, "And I'm curious, where did you find such a fine suit at such short notice?"

"I've had it for months, so it wasn't difficult to find." Draco told her, his roguish grin flitting back onto his face.

Hermione laughed, then noticed him looking at her in all seriousness, "You're being entirely truthful, aren't you?" She said, slightly surprised.

Draco raised his shoulders slighter, "I haven't told a single lie this evening. Unlike some people..." he let the insinuation hang in the air.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "I'll pretend I didn't hear that," she told him, then remembering an earlier conversation she asked, "So when you were discussing wines with the Beaumonts earlier? You really do own a large vineyard in Italy?"

"I now own two." He told her simply.

"Two?" Hermione repeated, a little louder than she had intended and Draco chuckled.

"Yes, two. The first has been in the family for a couple of centuries – we're the oldest producers of Elf-made wine, I believe. And before you go all high and mighty," he added quickly, "I know what you're like with you damn elfs, our wine-elfs aren't like house-elfs, they get wages and days off."

"I wasn't going to say a word," Hermione said calmly,

"No, but you were thinking a fair few, I guarantee it." He accused with a smirk, but Hermione didn't respond, so Draco continued. "As I was saying, the Malfoy's have owned Arbour Wines for centuries, but – What?" Draco asked suddenly, as Hermione was now laughing and shaking her head in amusement, though Draco seemed to be missing the joke.

"Nothing," Hermione said, "It's just, I like that wine. In fact we had a bottle with dinner last night." She told him with another laugh.

"Is that so?" Draco said smiling down in amusement, "Well in that case, thank you for putting money in my pocket," he laughed, raising his glass.

Hermione laughed yet again, chinking her glass to his, humouring his mock toast, "You are very welcome." She joked back. "And your other vineyard?" Hermione asked.

"A recent acquisition." He told her, "Quite near to mine, I heard the owner was thinking of selling, so I thought I would invest. It's good acreage, reliable produce, and it's a Muggle wine, quite popular I believe. Hence the suit," he ginned, "I couldn't very well sit down with a room full of Muggles without a good Muggle suit. I had my tailor whip it up while I was over there - Giovani is great with Muggle and Wizard attire, certainly the best."

"Wow," Hermione said, after a moment's contemplation, "I'm beginning to realise just how much I underestimated your worth." She said causing Draco to laugh.

Before Draco could make a comment, another guest interrupted them again; a young woman with blonde hair, rather tall, and looking roughly the same age as themselves.

Hermione instantly smiled widely, and went forward to embrace the new arrival,

"Melissa, I was wondering when I would find you." She said.

"You've been moving around continuously, I thought I would never catch you." Melissa said with a grin, "Richard and I were saying, you're as slippery as a serpent this evening."

Hermione heard Draco chuckle at the choice of words, and Hermione couldn't help but let out a small laugh, despite the anger that had started to bubble.

"You managed to find Richard easily enough then?" Hermione commented, "I confess, I've hardly seen him at all this evening. But I have been busy introducing my friend." She turned back to Draco,

"This is Draco Malfoy," Hermione introduced for what felt like the millionth time, "His family has a large estate in Wiltshire. And a couple of vineyards in Italy, apparently." She added and Draco scowled, this woman didn't need to know that.

"Really?" Melissa said, clearly more interested in him now that she had some idea of his worth.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "This is Melissa Harding," she told Draco, and was seriously considering adding a 'money grubbing whore', but she contented herself with saying with a smile, "My oldest friend."

"Indeed?" Draco said, catching Hermione's slight stressing of the words 'oldest friend', that in conjunction with her significant look told Draco this was the woman who her fiancé had been sleeping with.

"A pleasure to meet you," Draco said, and Hermione was less than happy with the expression on Melissa's face as Draco took her hand. Unless Hermione was quite mistaken, it seemed Melissa's infatuation with Richard was about to be passed over to man worth a considerable amount more. Hermione didn't like this idea one bit – in fact, she believed the churning she felt were the first stirrings of jealously, and this revelation shocked her. Since when did Hermione get jealous? Melissa's flirtations with Richard had never stirred any emotions in her whatsoever, not even when Hermione had first started dating Richard and she had actually felt something for the man. Why then, when Melissa began flirting shamelessly with Draco, was Hermione suddenly gripped with a mad desire to slap the woman in front her.

Before she could act on this new impulse, however, Richard joined the three, and Hermione was forced to smile as he said: "Here you are, my two favourite girls."

Richard slipped an arm around Hermione's waist, and kissed her on the head. Hermione had to remind herself that the three had been good friends long before Hermione and Richard first got tether – Richard had always called her and Melissa 'his two favourite girls.'

"I was beginning to think you were avoiding me," Richard joked and Hermione laughed.

"Don't be silly," Hermione soothed, "I'm simply being a good hostess."

"Speaking of your hostess duties," Richard said slyly, "Your father's looking for you. It seems the Wainrights have reminded him of the yearly tradition."

Hermione groaned, "On no, really? I had hoped no one would really remember that." She said with a sigh.

Richard grinned, and squeezed her to him, "It's been two years and apparently they're not the only ones to have missed your duets. After the Wainrights voiced their wish, a few others seconded it, so your father sent me to find you. You know where to find him." He grinned.

"I hate you right now." Hermione said with a sickly sweet smile, before turning her attention to Draco, "I'm really sorry but I'm going to have to abandon you for a little while. I really wish I didn't have to but I do." She smiled and walked away to find her father.

"I don't know why she complains," Melissa commented, "If I could sing and play like her, I'd be at the piano all the time."

"Is that so," Draco mused, watching Hermione walk away towards the grand piano in the corner of the room, where her father was stood. "Will you excuse me," he said suddenly, draining his glass. "Refill."

Draco smiled, went to take another glass from the nearest waiter, and positioned himself near the fireplace, which offered him a perfect view of Hermione's countenance as she took her seat, frowning good-naturedly at her father who had just picked up the guitar.

Hermione led the way into the song, Anthony picking up the accompaniment in perfect time, and when Hermione's voice carried clear across the room Draco was pleasantly impressed: She really was a woman of many talents.

Before he could thoroughly enjoy the show for too long, Draco felt a presence at his side and Richard spoke quietly to him:

"My fiancé has quite a talent." Richard said, fairly possessively.

"Granger has many talents, and she excels at the all." Draco told him truthfully, not tearing his eyes away from her.

Richard gave a sniff of a laugh that was devoid of any humour, "I see the way you look at her, and I think you should stop." He told Draco and this time Draco did look at him.

"That sounds almost like you're threatening me. Not very hospitable is it?" Draco said with a raised eyebrow, "Rather stupid of you too, I will point out. No one threatens me."

"And no one messes with my fiancé." Richard said, his face hardening, but Draco simply smiled.

"I'm not messing with her. I'm simply treating her the way she deserves to be treated." Draco told him, turning back to watch Hermione.

"You need to take a step back." Richard warned again, "She's _my_ fiancé and I love her-"

"Then show her some respect." Draco interrupted, looking back at Richard with all traces of geniality gone from his face,

"Pay _her_ the attention, instead of the little blonde half of your 'two favourite girls'. Just because Hermione doesn't react, it doesn't mean she hasn't seen. And while I may have kept her quite distracted this evening, I didn't fail to notice your absence earlier, so it naturally follows that she may have noticed it too." Draco let his words hang in the air for a moment before delivering his final statement.

"You don't want to make an enemy of me, I can promise you that. But you're about to the cross the line, so I would watch your step if I were you."

Draco left no time for Richard to reply and walked away from him in the direction of the piano, where Hermione was just rising from her seat, to the applause of the surrounding people.

Draco picked up another drink, handing it directly over to her when he was near, "I knew you could play, but I never knew you could sing." He told her with a smile.

"Not many people know I can," She admitted, "But father and I sat down to sing one time, and since then it's become a frequent request." She admitted, adding quietly as the crowd dispersed, "It's only in the Muggle world that I play and sing, I've never found the opportunity to indulge in the Wizarding world."

At that moment, two men whom Hermione recognised as business associates of Richard's father came over to them, both giving Draco a wary glance.

"Miss Granger," the taller gentleman said, reaching for her hand, "I can't tell you how honoured I am to finally meet you properly."

"Thank you," Hermione said, slightly uncertain, and picking up on the less than friendly glances they were giving her companion. "I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met properly before-"

"My name is Hodges," Said the taller gentleman again, who seemed to be the principle speaker for the two, "Victor Hodges, and this is Arnold Whently. The last time we were at one of your parents' events was about three, maybe four years ago? We disappeared off the radar for a little while – we had to really," he laughed, "We pretty much went into hiding right away, after You-Know-Who came back."

Hermione tried very hard to not let her shock show, but she failed miserably having just taken a sip of her drink and choking on it almost immediately.

"I'm sorry?" She spluttered, wondering if she could have truly heard correctly.

"Yes," Victor continued, "We do a lot of business with Muggles, and I was often in an out of the Ministry. I would have been putting an awful lot of innocent Muggles in danger if I hadn't have gone underground, I believe. It was as much for others' safety as mine that I went into hiding."

Hermione regained her composure and smiled, "It's lovely to meet you, properly." She told him.

"And you," Arnold finally joined the conversation, "It's such an honour to be able to shake your hand. And thank you, for everything you've done for our world. It's truly wonderful to share this evening in the company of the fearless Gryffindor Princess."

"Thank you," Hermione smiled, not knowing what else to say, "I'm sorry, will you excuse me?"

Without waiting for a response Hermione walked calmly away, in the direction of the Anteroom - it closer than the main exit into the hall. Slipping through the doors, she leaned against the wall and took a deep breath – never in a million years would she have thought to meet other Wizards here!

"Are you alright, Miss?" A voice asked, and Hermione looked over to see a waiter looking at her questioningly. Immediately she smiled,

"Perfectly fine," she assured him, "Would you pour me a Scoth please. On the rocks, thanks."

The waited nodded and poured the drink at the same time that Draco came into the room with a concerned frown. "Are you okay?" He asked her, as the waiter handed over her drink, before leaving the room with his newly filled tray of mixed drinks he'd been organising.

"I'm fine, I just didn't expect that," she admitted. "Who the hell expects a couple of Wizards to pop up in the middle of a Muggle soirée?" Hermione heard the note of hysteria creeping into her voice and she took a large gulp of her drink.

"This is ridiculous," she said suddenly, the true folly of the evening finally falling upon her. "This whole thing is ridiculous." She turned to look at Draco, "When I think of how I spent last Christmas, where I was this time last year. Everything that happened between then and now." Suddenly she felt a lump form in her throat, the prickling at the corners of her eyes, and she knew she needed something a little stronger than the scotch she was cradling.

She shook her head, "These people have no idea. All these Muggles in the room, they have no idea how much danger they were in. And even the two Wizards, they have no idea what I went through so that they could sleep safe at night. And I feel awful; it feels wrong to be here, celebrating, in such a ridiculous charade."

Draco took a step towards her and place his hands comfortingly on Hermione's arms, rubbing up and down as she continued to rant:

"The amount of people who gave their lives, for these people here, and they haven't got a clue! Fred, Remus & Dora – it's Teddy's first Christmas and his parents never got to celebrate it with them, because they died for the ignoramuses out there. I spent last Christmas in the middle of a fricking forest, on the run, with only Harry." Hermione laughed bitterly, took a deep calming breath and looked up to see Draco simply staring at her, not bothering to conceal his concern.

She smiled at him, "I'm bored of champagne, and I'm bored of this party. I have some excellent Firewhiskey down in the cellar-room. Would you care to join me?" She asked.

"Won't people get suspicious, seeing us leave together?" Draco smirked.

"You don't think I'm going back in there do you?" She asked, mirroring his smirk, "Follow me."

Hermione led him to the other side of the room and through another door, which led into the billiards room. From there they went out into the hallway and down the flights of stairs into the kitchen, which was mercifully empty – the caterers having packed up and left thirty minutes ago.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to say it, Granger." Draco said, as Hermione opened the door to the cellar, "But isn't drinking down in the cellar a little bit…" He seemed to struggle for the right word so Hermione cut him off.

"Can you at least reserve judgment until you see the room?" She scolded, pushing him through the door first and following a step behind, pulling the door closed behind her.

"Wow," Draco said as he stepped off the least step into the room, "My bad, this is quite the room." He commended.

"Thank you," Hermione smiled, "Feel free to inspect the wine – let me know if we have any of yours." She added with a smirk and Draco chuckled.

Draco looked over the shelves as Hermione grabbed a bottle of Firewhiskey and walked over to the bar to collect a couple of glasses, before seating herself on the couch with her back to the rest of the room.

When Draco sat beside her, she had already poured two glasses, kicked off her shoes and removed her gloves, which were thrown unceremoniously onto the table.

Draco had removed his blazer and tie, placing them over the arm of the other couch, and was unfastening his top bottom as he leaned back into the couch cushions, frowning at Hermione.

"What on earth are you doing?" He asked her as she began to pull her dress up her thigh, so that the split that ran down from her knee now started much higher. Not that Draco was complaining about the view, it just seemed like a strange thing to be doing.

Hermione grinned and Draco heard the sound of Velcro being pulled apart, as Hermione pulled out her wand.

"I've had it strapped to my leg all night," She explained, as Draco chuckled.

Hermione picked up her drink, "What shall we drink to?" She said.

"To money," Draco declared, and Hermione snorted, "Where would be without it?" He finished.

"Alright," She conceded and drained her glass.

"Easy, girl. We don't want you passing out." Draco smirked.

"Please, I'm a Granger. We know how to hold our liquor." Hermione said, placing her glass on the table.

"Is that so," Draco said as he poured another.

"To Harry Potter," Hermione said, raising her glass again, "For killing Voldemort and saving the world."

"To Hermione Granger," Draco countered, "For making sure he didn't die in the process."

Hermione laughed loudly at that, "Ha!I tried, but even I can't control the sod all the time." She said, adding when she saw confusion flit across his eyes: "Never mind, it's complicated. To Draco Malfoy, for keeping me relatively sane during this charade of an evening."

After a few more toasts, some more serious than others, the pair lapsed into an easy, momentary silence, broken soon enough by Draco.

"So, tell me." He said, looking seriously at her, "What were you doing all last year? Where did you go? You've often dropped a few little hints, here and there, usually you don't mean to, but you did. And there were a lot of rumours: a Ministry break in, and Gringotts raid. Yet, you seemed to have just disappeared off the face of the earth. And earlier this evening, you said Bellatrix gave you crucial information without realising it, what was that?"

Hermione sighed, then smiled, "Firstly, we didn't disappear, we were just really good at hiding." She poured herself another glass, and topped up Draco's without question, to give her some time before answering. How much could she tell him? How much did she _want_ to tell him? And how much did he actually already know?

"After the Ministry fell, last July, we – that is to say, Harry, Ron and I – fled to Harry's house in London. It was passed to him from his Godfather, and it had many enchantments upon it, so it was a fairly safe haven. We stayed in there about a month, up until our escape out of the Ministry."

"So you did break into the Ministry?" Draco said, and Hermione nodded.

"Potter was being hunted as the most wanted criminal, and you were wanted for not presenting yourself to the Ministry for registration. Yet you decided to waltz into the Ministry of Magic?" He asked incredulously, and Hermione couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"It didn't strike you as an incredibly stupid thing to do?" He pressed.

Hermione shrugged, "Yes, it did. But unfortunately, it was incredibly necessary to do at the time. We needed something that Dolores Umbridge had on her person at the time. But we'd spent a good month planning the operation." She defended.

"And how did that go?" Draco asked sceptically, remembering her choice of phrasing earlier: they had _escaped_, which suggested something went wrong.

Hermione laughed again, "It went like most of our plans." She admitted, "It completely unravelled at step one. We obviously didn't go in looking like ourselves – Ron became some maintenance guy, who's wife was on trial for her blood status that day – flaw number one right there as we didn't know this vital piece of information. When we got in there, we ended up separated as far away from each other as we could possibly be. Though luckily I ended up with Umbridge, Harry managed to make his way down to me in the courtrooms. But things just went from bad to worse, in a spectacular fashion - I have no idea what came over him but Harry thought it would be a good idea to curse Umbridge, I stole the necklace from her, replacing it with a fake, while he unchained the woman currently standing trial, yelling that they were all free to go." Hermione shook her head and laughed as she relived the memory in her head,

"It was utter chaos! When we made it up to the Atrium, Ron finally makes it back to us, still in disguise, and it turned out the woman whom Harry had just unchained was married to the man Ron was impersonating, so she threw herself at him, while all the other Muggle borns are escaping. Meanwhile, the polyjuice is wearing off and suddenly Harry Potter and Hermione Granger are standing there. So we run like hell back to the fireplaces, which they're sealing off, and as we come back out and disappearate back to Harry's some employee grabs my ankle." Hermione's voice became serious once again and the laughter died,

"We made it to the house in one piece, but as soon as we stopped I apparated us away again, and got rid of the guy tailing us. When we landed in the forest, Ron was splinched really bad, but we managed to patch him up. After that, we were living in a tent, living off things we could forage for. I had some Muggle money with me, so we could buy a few provisions every now and then, but mostly we tried to stay away from civilisation. And we never stayed in the same place longer than twenty-four hours, unless we had to." Hermione finished.

"But what were you doing? Apart from hiding, why did you risk entering the Ministry, what was so important about the object you took from Umbridge?"

Hermione chewed her lip, not sure how much she wanted to share, and she looked at Draco thoughtfully, causing him to shift uncomfortably.

"What's wrong?" He asked warily.

"Nothing, I'm just wondering how much I could, or should tell you." She answered honestly, "This stuff, what we did, it's not something that needs to be public knowledge. Truth be told, it probably should be kept as much a secret as possible."

Draco smiled, "You can be assured of my secrecy, if that's what you're worried about. I won't tell a soul, I swear it." He finished in sincerity, topping up their drinks, which once again had emptied.

"But you don't have to tell me, either, if you don't want." He added, placing the almost empty bottle back on the table, and leaning back.

Eventually Hermione spoke, rather slowly, "There were certain things, binding Voldemort to life. Before we could fight him and finish him, we first needed to find these objects and destroy them." She said, deciding to give some information only, "While on the run, we were going through everything we knew, trying to find possible locations for the remaining objects."

"These objects," Draco said slowly, "Would one be the Horcrux you mentioned a few months ago?"

"Crap, I forgot I let that slip." She said, "Yeah, they would. Except they're horcruxes – plural. Though whether that's the correct term I don't know, as they have never existed in the plural before." Hermione added.

"Okay, I have no idea what you're talking about – I tried to look for the term in so many books, but I had no idea where the hell to start, or what I was really looking for." Draco admitted and Hermione shook her head.

"There are no books in Hogwarts that talk about them. I have the only books that describe them, I summoned them from Dumbledore's study the night after his funeral."

"You stole from the headmaster before he was cold in his grave?" Draco asked, astounded.

"It wasn't like that!" Hermione defended. "I knew the books had been removed from the library, I strongly suspected Dumbledore would still have had them, and we needed to know what we were up against. I felt no qualms in summoning them, because I knew that if he were alive and I would have asked to read them, Dumbledore would have let me." Hermione finished defiantly.

Draco was silent for a moment, and then shrugged, "Whatever, you still stole from a dead guy."

Hermione responded by throwing a pillow at him, before pouring the rest of the bottle into Draco's glass and summoning a new one to top up her own.

"But seriously, how could you be so sure he would have let you?" Draco asked.

"Because in the year before he died, he made sure Harry – and therefore Ron and Myself – had as much information about what needed to be done as possible. He would hardly have refused if I asked for the extra information."

Draco stared intently into his glass, "You speak as if he knew he was going to be murdered." And the torment was thick in his voice once again.

Hermione looked sadly at Draco. Of course, he had no idea what had really happened that evening, even Harry had only found out the true nature of events back in June.

"He wasn't murdered." Hermione said consolingly and Draco looked up, incredulity plastered across his features.

"I was there, I remember," he said bitterly.

Hermione nodded, "Dumbledore knew he was going to die. He knew what Voldemort had told you to do, and he had planned for Severus to do it instead. Furthermore, about the same time you were given your task, Dumbledore came across a Horcrux and when he touched it he unleashed the curse upon it. Do you remember his blackened hand?" She asked him, and Draco nodded,

"Severus managed to temporarily contain the curse, but it was going to kill him in less than a year." She told him.

"How do you know all this?" Draco breathed, and Hermione could see he longed to believe her.

"Severus gave Harry his memories while he lay dying," Hermione decided to be completely truthful; she felt Draco deserved that at the very least, as it seemed Dumbledore's death had plagued more than anyone knew.

"Through them Harry learnt the truth about many things, one of which was the true nature of Dumbledore's death: Dumbledore always intended for Severus to be the one to draw his wand against him, not you. He knew you could never do it, and he never wanted you to even attempt it. Harry saw it all as well," She added, "He was on the tower, in his invisibility cloak and he saw you lower your wand. From that moment on, Harry, and me as well, we knew you were doing what you were doing because you had to. Not because you wanted to." Hermione finished.

Draco looked up from his glass, he looked as if he wanted to speak, but words seem to fail him. Finally, he spoke, his voice horse and strained with emotion.

"I didn't have a choice-" Draco started and then cleared his throat before he gulped down the full glass of Firewhiskey.

"You don't have to explain-" Hermione began, unconsciously edging closer to him on the couch, but Draco cut her off.

"Yes, I do," He said, in an almost strangled whisper. He cleared his voice again, and continued to speak with more conviction, "That's bullshit, I did have a choice, but I made the wrong one, the weak one." Draco took a deep breath and finally voiced the thoughts that had been plaguing his conscience for years.

"My father drilled his beliefs into me constantly as I was growing up. It never occurred to me to disagree, as everything he said appeared to me to be true: Malfoys are pure-bloods, that's why we are where we are, we're the best. The purer the blood, the better – muggles and muggle-lovers were the lowest of the low – they would never be anything spectacular, they could never rise as high as us. Being pure-blood made you superior in every way – money, talent, intelligence, the pure bloods had it all." He reached for the Firewhiskey and topped up his glass, as Hermione listened silently.

He took a drink and continued, "Then I went to Hogwarts, and this ridiculously bossy know-it-all-Gryffindor challenged every belief my father had instilled in me - " Draco looked up at Hermione with something close to awe in his gaze.

"You're a muggle-born yet you were better than everyone in our year: you got the highest grades, you picked up new spells the quickest, you never brewed a potion incorrectly. At first I thought I just wasn't applying myself hard enough, I was taking too much for granted, so in my second and third year I upped my studying, but you still continued to beat me, it was infuriating."

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Hermione found it difficult to quell her small laugh, at which Draco smirked,

"But you were just one anomaly," He continued, "and my father was still constantly drilling into me these 'truths' he believed in. My mother seemed to believe the same to a degree, but it wasn't until Voldemort's return that I realised how the two differed: my father was fanatical, he pretty much hero-worshipped Voldemort, my mother not-so-much, she was very wary of him and of his regime. She would never have gotten in so deep if it wasn't for her sister and her husband – if only she had been more drawn to her other sister, maybe I would have turned out different." Draco took another large mouthful of whiskey, and then carried on, as Hermione listened with rapt attention.

"A year after his return, Voldemort came out into the open at the Ministry – you'll remember, you were there," Hermione nodded, setting her glass down on the table, too involved in his narrative to drink.

Draco continued: "By that time, my mother was so far into the regime thanks to my father, that I was of course stuck in there as well. I was the perfect pawn to play as a way of punishing my father for his mistakes that caused such a fiasco in the Department of Mysteries. I had my doubts about Voldemort's ideas, the same as my Mother, and I think he knew that. He intended me to die, I'm sure of it. But I was fifteen, I couldn't disobey my parents, and I certainly couldn't disobey Voldemort, so I ended up branded with the Dark Mark, and given the ultimate task of murdering Dumbledore – the youngest person to ever receive such an honour" Draco said with sarcasm, as he drained yet another glass.

Before she could stop herself, Hermione asked quietly, "Can I see it?"

Draco stared at her, "Sorry?" He wasn't sure if he was hearing correctly, Hermione moved closer to him, and reached toward his left arm,

"Your Mark. Can I see it?" She almost whispered, looking at Draco directly in the eyes.

Without breaking eye contact Draco nodded slowly, unbuttoned his left shirtsleeve, and began to roll it up his forearm. Hermione tore her gaze away from his eyes and focused on his arm. Without thinking, she leaned closer, tentatively took his arm in her right hand, and began to trace the outline of the Dark Mark with the fingers of her left hand.

Draco inhaled at her touch: no one had ever touched his mark, and no one had ever touched him as delicately, or tenderly, as he was being touched right now. Her fingers sent tingles down his spine, and he held his breath as his heart rate accelerated slightly.

"It's faded," Hermione stated simply, too intrigued by Draco's scar, and blissfully unaware of the arousing effect she was currently having upon him, "It's barely more than a faint outline now."

"Yeah," he agreed in a croak, Draco cleared his throat and tried to talk again more clearly, "Yeah, it faded pretty quick when he died – maybe in a few years it could disappear altogether. Then I won't have to keep my arms covered at all time." He said sounding slightly hopeful.

Hermione smiled, "At least your scar is disappearing quicker than mine" she said sadly. Draco, who had been watching her face intently the entire time she was examining his arm, looked to her left arm, took it in his hand and turned it gently over, to display the word his deranged aunt had carved there.

He traced a finger lightly over the bumps of the letters, "I am so sorry" Draco whispered feelingly, yet again and Hermione looked up with a smile.

"I know-" She began as she transferred her gaze, but she cut off when she realised how close the two of them had become.

Her breathing hitched and her pulse quickened: Draco's face was barely an inch away from hers, his gaze returned to hers and within seconds she was transfixed, staring into the swirling silver pools of his eyes – no longer cool and masked, now they were brimming with emotions, too many to name.

Draco didn't think – at that moment he was incapable of any form of coherent thought: all he knew at that moment was that Hermione's lips were right there within touching distance and he wanted nothing more than to taste them. Without pausing to think he leaned forward, inching closer.

Hermione didn't even think of the consequences, all she could think was how close Draco was, and how easy it would be to close the distance and finally feel his lips against hers. So when he edged forward ever so slightly, almost warily, Hermione had no hesitation of closing the gap and meeting his lips with hers.

The kiss was tentative at first, but when each felt the other respond neither hesitated to deepen it. Hermione melted instantly: she brought her hands up around Draco's neck, as he snaked his around her back, each pulling the other closer. Draco traced Hermione's lips with his tongue, eliciting a moan that made him want her even more, and Hermione parted her lips, allowing him to explore her mouth. She wound her hands in his hair, bringing him even closer and pressing her body into his. The responsible side of her brain had been long numbed by the Firewhiskey they had consumed, and giving up her last moral she leaned back into the couch, pulling Draco down with her.

* * *

_**A/N: Finally! We have some real Dramione action...well, a little bit anyway.**_

_**Let me know what you guys think, thank you to all my readers, to everyone who has added the story to their favourites and their alerts. I'll be cracking on with the next chapter in the morning, but a fair amount is already written, so it hopefully shouldn't be a long wait.**_

_**xBx**_


	21. Chapter 21: Confessions

_**A/N: Sorry for the delay (doubly late thanks to my laptop crashing just as I was about to save the edit...meaning I'm starting the edit again lol). Anyway, thank you to all my readers and to everyone who has reviewed, added this to favourites &/or alerts. you guys are amazing!**_

_**I know a few of you have been wondering just how Hermione and Richard's engagement came about, and why Victoria Granger is so deluded about her daughter's feelings...well, you are about to get you answer.**_

_**Enjoy :)**_

_**xBx**_

* * *

**~ Chapter 21: Confession ~**

Neither one knew how long they had been there, enjoying the taste of each other, exploring each other with their hands.

Draco's hands entwined themselves in her hair, pulling out the pins which held it in a loose up do. He let her hair cascade around her shoulders, running his hands through the curls.

Hermione became so caught up in the heat of the moment that without thinking of the possible consequences, she raked her hands along Draco's chest, and started to undo the buttons of his shirt, craving the feel of his skin underneath her fingers –

"Hermione? Are you down here?" A voice called from the top of the stairs, accompanied by the sound of a door opening.

In that split second the moment was ruined, and their little bubble burst. Draco sat up abruptly, pulling Hermione up with him, and in their haste knocked the Firewhiskey bottle onto the floor, resulting in a loud clunk.

"Hermione?" The voice – which Hermione now recognised as Richard's – called out again.

Hermione cleared her throat and called back: "Yeah? We're down here," as Draco re-did the buttons she had managed to open.

She then noticed Draco's mouth and she kicked him to get his attention,

"You have my lipstick on you," she whispered urgently, while attempting to touch up her own lips the best she could without the assistance of a mirror. Draco grabbed a napkin from the table and wiped his mouth. Hermione turned around to look over the back of the couch, moving herself to one end, putting some well needed distance between Draco and herself, in time to see her fiancé emerge from the stairs leading up to the kitchen.

She smiled, "What's up?" she asked, trying to feign a nonchalance she certainly wasn't feeling.

Richard took in the pair of them sat together on the couch, "You disappeared a couple of hours ago. Your absence has been noted and commented upon." He stated.

Hermione's smile slipped, "I wasn't feeling in the party mood, so I came down here to get away from all the festivities." She said coldly, not appreciating Richard's tone of voice.

"Not in the party mood, but decided to have a little private party down here?" He asked with sarcasm.

"What are you suggesting?" Hermione asked, but continued before he could respond. "Malfoy and I are simply having some drinks, and talking. Catching up."

Richard raised his eyebrows, "Catching up? You go to school together, you've been home from school all of three days, surely there's not _that_ much to catch up on?"

Hermione sighed, "For God's sake Richard, what is your problem?" she snapped, all thoughts of keeping up her in-love pretence now completely forgotten.

"People have been asking after you, do you know how embarrassing it is to tell people I have no idea where my fiancé is? Let me give you a hint, it's only slightly less embarrassing than realising that I am up there, alone, while my fiancé is down here getting drunk and cosy with some guy." Richard snapped back

"He's not some guy, he's a friend-" Hermione started, but was rudely interrupted.

"I know you don't talk a lot about your school, with me, but you do talk about your friends: Harry, Ron and Ginny come up a lot as friends. Draco Malfoy, I've never heard of."

Draco, who had been silent up to this point, sipping on his drink, turned himself on the couch in order to look toward Richard,

"I think you're the first person who has ever said that about me." He commented in all seriousness, but giving his signature smirk.

Hermione laughed, and turned back to pick up her glass. Upon seeing it empty she picked up the bottle from the floor and filled her glass.

"So Malfoy and I haven't always been friends. But I've certainly made reference to him at some point, though admittedly never by name: a choice description of him would have been 'slimy git'. 'Arrogant arse' is my particular favourite, oh and 'evil son-of-a-bitch'. To name a few." Hermione said in a mocking tone, knowing it would anger Richard.

"Charming," Draco said dryly, Hermione tuned and smirked at him,

"Nope, never used that one. Don't think I ever will." She commented.

Draco quirked an eyebrow, muttered, "Challenge accepted" and took a sip of his drink, as Hermione laughed.

Hermione turned back to Richard. "What I'm trying to say is, that while we haven't always seen eye to eye-"

Draco snorted, Hermione glared at him for the interruption, and he smirked, "A little bit of an understatement," he said.

Hermione turned back to Richard, ignoring Draco's comment, and continued, "Things change, people change. A lot of things can happen in a year, and it turns out we have more in common than we thought. We actually get along pretty ok when old grievances and prejudices are forgotten."

Richard remained silent, looking between them, and clearly struggling with himself.

Hermione took a deep breath, "What is it? Come on, spit it out, you've obviously got something you want to say, so say it." She all but commanded.

Richard shrugged, "Just looking around: A couple of empty bottles, his jacket and tie thrown over the couch, top button undone. You're hair's down and messed up, and your heels are flung across the floor. See where I'm going with this? Can't help but be suspicious."

Hermione glared at Richard, "Forgive me for wanting to relax in relative comfort, without wearing toe-squashing shoes, or having pins pinching my scalp." She said with quiet anger.

Draco stood up to face Richard completely, "You know, over-suspicion of others is a sign of a guilty conscience in one's self," He commented darkly.

"Excuse me?" Richard took a step forward and in response Draco stepped around the couch.

"You know what I'm talking about," Draco reiterated, "You do something you shouldn't and next thing you know, you think everyone else is doing the same thing. Never heard the saying 'it takes one, to know one'?"

Richard scoffed, "Please, even a blind mind could see what I walked into-"

"Yes! Two friends, enjoying a drink in the peace and quiet away from the ridiculous charade going on upstairs!" Hermione said standing up, as her rash Gryffindor spirit began to come through.

"Tell yourself that as much as you want, Hermione," Richard said quietly, "But I'm not the only one who witnessed your behaviour tonight with regards to him," He said, pointing at Draco. "It stops now."

Hermione let out an incredulous laugh, "Are you seriously trying to tell me what to do?" She asked, "I suggest you go back upstairs, before I really lose my cool."

"Will you be delighting us with your presence?" He asked shortly,

"Probably not. Not with my hair all 'down and messed up'. I'll probably go to bed, when I've finished this drink." Hermione plastered a fake smile on her face, "Be a darling and make my apologies, tell them I was tired and went to lay down."

Hermione turned back to the couch, dismissing Richard, their conversation now at an end.

"Congratulations Alden," Draco said, "Remember that line we discussed earlier? Well you've just gone and crossed it. Good luck with that." He smiled a dangerous smile, before Richard turned and left the room.

"A lot of love there, between you and your fiancé." He stated, every word dripping with sarcasm and tainted by the anger that still remained towards Richard for his disrespectful treatment of Hermione.

Hermione laughed, "Hard to believe we were good together at one point. But the romance and feelings fizzled out long ago, for me at least. It was a summer fling – granted it lasted a couple of summers, and continued over one Christmas holiday I spent here. But there was no contact through the school year." She said, before draining her glass again and setting on the table. She still hadn't turned around to face Draco, she hadn't looked at him properly since they were interrupted, and she didn't feel like she had the nerve to look at him just yet.

After a moment of silence, Draco finally spoke. "I should get home, it's getting late." He said, walking back to the couches for his jacket and tie.

Hermione rose and finally looked at him, "Thank you for coming tonight, I hope all the Muggles weren't too much for you?" She joked.

Draco smirked, "It was fun to observe them in their natural habitat. A bit like being at the zoo."

Hermione laughed, and punched him playfully on the arm, "They're not a separate species," she reprimanded.

Draco shrugged, "After what I witnessed this evening, I'm not so sure. But, I actually had a pretty good time, you're not so dull as I thought Granger." He said playfully.

Hermione smiled, "You're not so bad yourself, Malfoy," she returned, and he laughed. "Now there's a sentence I never thought I'd say," She commented, "What a surreal evening."

"Quite," He agreed and smiled at her, a smile she automatically returned. They held each others gaze for a moment before Draco disapparated.

Hermione stared at the empty space Draco had just vacated. "Fuck," She stated and grabbed her shoes and gloves, before apparating to her room dwelling on the confusing feelings swirling in her.

###

Draco appeared in the entrance hall of the Manor, just as the clock chimed 1am, with his tie and jacket slung over one arm. As he was walking along the hallway toward the grand staircase, absorbed in his thoughts, he almost ran into his mother, who came out of the family Library.

"Draco," Narcissa smiled tiredly, upon seeing her son, "You're home."

"I am," Draco returned the smile, "And you're up late, I hope you weren't waiting up for me."

"That wasn't my intention," Narcissa admitted, falling into step with her son, "I was reading: I became thoroughly engrossed by _The Tales…_ that Miss Granger was so good as to lend us. I hope you thanked her properly for the generous loan."

"Define a proper thank you" Draco smirked, and Narcissa rolled her eyes.

"Well, if you didn't pass on my thanks this evening, I suppose I can do it myself at New Years." She sighed as they began to ascend the stairs.

"This evening?" Draco repeated – He was certain he hadn't mentioned where he was going, or at least he hadn't mentioned Hermione's name. And then the rest of his mother's sentence registered - "Wait, New Year?"

"Yes," Narcissa clarified, unconcerned, "Harry has invited us all to his home to celebrate New Years, Miss Granger will be there, along with others. And Miss Granger is whom you spent the evening with, tonight, isn't it? Why else would you be wearing that suit?" She smiled knowingly, "I know you never said where you were going, specifically, but Andie, Harry and I deduced where you must have gone."

Draco grimaced, "Wonderful, you've been gossiping about me with Potter." He grumbled, and his mother gave a quiet chuckle.

"We weren't gossiping, darling," She placated, "And I hope you behaved yourself." She reminded her son of his earlier promise.

"Of course. I was the epitome of a gentleman, and I charmed everyone I met. Honestly," Draco assured his mother, when Narcissa gave him a slightly disbelieving look, "Mrs Granger in particular, was exceptionally charmed."

Narcissa smiled, looking mildly impressed, as the came up to Draco's door, "That's a good start." She told him, "But her father may prove more difficult to charm, and he will be all the more necessary to befriend if you are truly serious about her."

Draco looked momentarily winded, "I'm sorry?" He managed to say, and Narcissa smiled indulgently.

"Draco, you are my son, I know you better than anyone." She said simply, "There is no need for attempts at denial with me. And now I'll say goodnight."

"Goodnight mother," Draco smiled again, and leaned down to kiss his mother on the cheek. "And Merry Christmas." He added.

"Of course! It's gone midnight," Narcissa realised, and smiled even wider "Merry Christmas, son."

Draco entered his room and, for a long while, lay on his bed fully clothed contemplating the events of the evening. Thinking back, he had no idea who initiated the kiss - not that it really mattered, as neither was eager to stop it, that much had been clear. Draco spent the next few minutes indulging in the contemplation of what would have happened if they had not been rudely interrupted: was that just the Firewhiskey in their systems, pushing them blindly ahead? If they hadn't been interrupted, would they have woken up in the morning full of regrets?

Somehow, Draco didn't think so – at least, he wouldn't have had any regrets at any rate. So what did that mean? And then he remembered his mother's words: _if you're truly serious about her_. It seemed his mother was under the impression that he was pursuing Hermione Granger, that the two were much more than friends. Was he? Were they? Was there truth to what Blaise and Emmy had been saying to him for weeks? Did it matter? She was engaged to another man for crying out loud!

_Ah_ said a voice in his head, _but she has no intention of marrying him. __And__ she kissed you back – with lots of enthusiasm._ The voice reminded him.

"Eugh!" Draco exclaimed, rolling off his bed, "This is why Malfoys have no feelings. They're too complicated and cause sleepless nights." He grumbled.

_###_

Hermione was awoken far too early by her alarm clock, that she had luckily remembered to set before turning in for the night - she would never hear the end of it if she didn't rise early enough to spend Christmas morning with her parents. She rolled over, shut off the alarm and groaned as she rose slowly.

"Ow" she croaked, far too much alcohol had been consumed last night and now she was paying for it with a severe headache and an incredibly dry mouth, "Water, I need water." She mumbled.

Slowly she dragged herself into her bathroom, where she consecutively drank four glasses of water before getting in the shower. After half an hour of standing under the stream of hot water she started to feel somewhat human, though her head continued to pound.

An hour after her alarm had sounded Hermione entered the kitchen, to join her Mother and Father at breakfast.

"Merry Christmas Mum, Dad" She said as she entered, going over to each in turn to give them a hug and a kiss.

"Merry Christmas, Sweetheart" Her father said with a smile.

"Merry Christmas, Darling," Victoria echoed her husband.

Hermione took her seat and poured herself another glass of water.

"Mimosa?" Her mother asked, at which Hermione groaned.

"No thanks, I'll stick to water for now." She said, "And tea, I need a cup of strong tea."

Anthony chuckled, while Victoria gave a disapproving look. "Hung over are we dear?" Anthony asked with a grin.

"Little bit," Hermione admitted.

"I didn't like that you disappeared without telling anyone." Victoria reprimanded, clearly unable to stop herself. "Lord knows how long you had been gone before anyone noticed. And you disappeared with your _friend_-"

Hermione rolled her eyes, hearing the quotations around the word friend, "I don't think Richard was too happy either." Her mother continued.

Hermione looked up, "Do we have to do this today? Let's just try and be civil, it's Christmas. Are we doing presents now, or later?" Hermione asked, trying to change the subject,

"We thought we'd do it this morning." Anthony answered, "We know you're having lunch with the Weasleys, but you won't be leaving for another couple of hours. And then we're going into York, to Richard's Bar for a late dinner, apparently we'll have the whole place to ourselves, nice and quiet and informal – it should be good."

Hermione made a non-committal noise as Victoria added: "So do make sure you're back by five."

Hermione nodded, "I can do that. What will you be doing, while I'm at the Weasleys?" She asked.

Her father grinned, "What we do every time you're not around and we have the house to ourselves."

Hermione gave her parents a tortured look before getting up to make a cup of tea, "Seriously, I feel sick as it is. That was just uncalled for." She muttered as she left the table.

A few hours later, Hermione made her way up the snowy path of The Burrow, a large grin beginning to unfurl. As she approached the door she heard the usual commotion that went with a kitchen full of Weasleys and she couldn't help but laugh fondly as she knocked on the door.

The door was thrown open instantly by Ginny, who immediately proclaimed: "Hermione! About time!" Before dragging her across the threshold.

Every Weasley (and Harry) was crammed into the kitchen: Ron and Harry were chopping vegetables and George was by the sink peeling potatoes, while Mrs Weasley and Fleur hovered around the stove. Mr Weasley was sat at the large table conversing with Bill and Percy while they laid the table settings and Charlie was taking the crockery from the cabinet.

Mrs Weasley turned at her daughter's exclamation and smiled, "Hermione dear, it's lovely to see you! I feel I haven't seen you in an age." She cried, coming over to give her a hug.

"I'm sorry I haven't called in sooner, these holidays." Hermione apologised.

"Nonsense," Molly waved away the apology, "You have your own family to see, I understand that." She held Hermione at arms length for a moment and frowned. "You look peaky," she accused, "Why don't you go sit in the sitting room, and Ginny will bring you some tea. We'll come and join you when we're finished preparing in here."

Molly wouldn't take no for an answer, and moments later, after saying an individual 'hello' to everyone in the kitchen, Hermione was reclining comfortably in a chair by the fire in the empty sitting room. She had barely been sitting a minute when Ginny entered and handed Hermione a large steaming mug of tea.

"No offence, but you look like hell. Rough night?" Ginny asked, taking a seat next to Hermione, with her own mug.

Hermione laughed, "Thanks. And yeah, I may have drunk a little bit too much. My parents had a party." She explained.

"You had a party, and I wasn't invited? I'm offended" Ginny mocked, Hermione smiled.

"You would have hated it." She assured the redhead, "I hated it. A pompous Muggle soirée, so I escaped down into our cellars and drank Firewhiskey."

Hermione reflected on her last comment with a frown, "That didn't come out right – it wasn't supposed to sound so creepy. We have a wine cellar, that has been furnished with a bar and couches, it's actually quite cosy." She explained and Ginny laughed.

"So how much did you drink? We'll gloss over the pathetic quality of drinking alone and just get right down to numbers" Ginny commented.

Hermione scowled, "I wasn't alone. And we got through a little under two bottles."

Hermione looked down into her mug, "And then I did something stupid" she admitted with a groan, which caused Ginny to grin enthusiastically, "I crossed a line, I opened the gates, and now I can't close them." She groaned, thinking of the new-found emotions still swirling around inside.

"Is this some kind of metaphor for sex?" Ginny asked, "When you say 'gates' are you really meaning 'legs'?"

Hermione glanced up and gave Ginny a dark look, "No, Ginny! What is the matter with you? You've been around Zabini too much." Hermione reprimanded, "It was just a kiss. A great kiss, but just a kiss." She assured.

"Who was it?" Ginny asked, and Hermione smiled ruefully.

"I'm sticking to my promise: I told you that you would be the first to know if something happened. Well, last night we kissed. Don't mock me." She added.

Ginny frowned for a moment, and then comprehension dawned, "Oh my God!" She hissed, "How? What the hell was Malfoy doing at a Muggle party?" she asked.

"I invited him at the last minute, to piss off certain people – Don't ask. But toward the end of the night we'd had enough of the party, so we went downstairs and had a few drinks, had a chat. Then one thing led to another." Hermione trailed off into a groan.

"Now you have no excuse for denial any more," Ginny smirked, while Hermione groaned again.

"I can't have feelings for him, Gin. It's too complicated." Hermione whispered with anguish, not wanting the others to hear from the next room.

"Why not? I mean, would it be so bad if you did?" Ginny asked her seriously.

Hermione looked at Ginny, obviously the answer was a resounding yes, but how could she explain it to Ginny? Hermione had gone back to Hogwarts to buy time and find a solution of getting out of a marriage she had no inclination to be in, not to start falling for another man – a previous enemy to boot.

"I went back to Hogwarts to study, to get my NEWT's, and try and get back to normality." Hermione said slowly.

Ginny laughed, "And when has your life at Hogwarts ever been normal? Look, Hermione, I'm not pressuring you here, but seriously, what would be so bad about having feelings for Malfoy?" Ginny asked again.

Hermione looked at her incredulously – even that simple sentence sounded ridiculous given her history with the man - but Ginny continued, "You say you want to get back to normality? Well, falling for someone is completely normal Hermione. I mean, after everything you've done over the years, a relationship is so normal it's probably mundane to you. But for the normal folk of Hogwarts, you know those who don't get into life threatening situations at every turn, it's the most exciting time of their lives." She said with a grin.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh, "Yeah, I have gotten myself into a lot of terribly sticky situations over the years." She admitted. "But of all the people to fall for, Draco Malfoy?" she said, "It just seems ridiculous."

Ginny shrugged, "Not really, when you think about it. Hermione you are the brightest with of our age, no one comes close to your intellectual standards." Ginny told her.

"Except Draco Malfoy. You and Ron were never going to work out long term: you used to get exasperated with him, and you always argued. And I saw it sometimes that when You, Harry and Ron were discussing something that none of the rest of us knew what it was about, you and Harry always seemed to be on the same page, but Ron was always a couple of pages behind." Ginny told her honestly. As Hermione digested her friend's words, the redhead continued.

"Harry was a close equal to you, but you said there's no spark. With Malfoy, you seem to have it all. He is incredibly intelligent – I've noticed a few times that while I'm doing homework with you, we'll start a discussion on a topic, Blaise and Malfoy will join in, and then before you know it, you and Malfoy are zooming off on tangents, leaving me and Blaise lagging behind trying to keep up." Ginny said, shaking her head with a laugh before continuing:

"Malfoy is the only person I have seen who can really keep up with you, who can even challenge you, in a stimulating conversation. And you certainly have the passion, Merlin knows I've seen the two of you in some of your fights and you can both really let rip." Hermione laughed again at that.

"All I'm saying, is don't let the past prejudice you too much. Forget the fact that you're the Gryffindor Princess and he's the Slytherin Prince-" a sudden gleam came to Ginny's eye that had Hermione worried.

"On second thoughts, don't forget that, that's even more perfect. Its like Romeo and Juliet: Two lovers from opposing sides brought together against all odds." Ginny said gazing out, now lost in her thoughts.

Hermione looked at her with a less than impressed air, "Oh lovely. So you're saying we're going to fall in love, give in to our feelings, and then kill ourselves? How nice." She said dryly.

Ginny looked at Hermione with a frown, "The most famous love story of all time, and you manage to destroy the romance in one sentence. Unbelievable."

Hermione laughed, as Harry and Ron joined them.

"What's so funny?" Ron asked, sitting down next to his sister, while Harry moved towards the fireplace.

"Nothing, I'm just ruining romance apparently." Hermione smiled, at which the boys frowned, clearly confused.

"Don't mind her," Ginny said, "She's just bitter 'cause she's hung over."

The boys laughed while Hermione frowned at Ginny, "Yeah, well, you'd be hung over too if you had to be exposed to the party I endured last night."

"Oh come on, it wasn't all bad," Ginny teased with a grin.

Hermione chose to ignore the statement and turned to the other two, "So what did you boys get up to last night?" She asked.

Ron leaned back into the couch, "Absolutely nothing." He said.

Harry watched Hermione carefully as he answered, "I had dinner with Andie and Narcissa." He told her.

"Oh," Hermione said, "How was that?" she asked, feigning a calm she didn't feel. Did Harry know that Draco spent the evening with her?

"It was good. Malfoy wasn't there, apparently he had another engagement." He said, still not taking his eyes from Hermione.

"Is that so?" she said, tucking her hair behind her ear, "Did you discover where?"

"We had a strong suspicion," he told her, pausing a moment before continuing, "How was your evening?" He asked pointedly, and Hermione laughed.

_Yep,_ she thought, _he knows._ "God's Harry," she said out loud, "You're about a subtle as a blunt axe." She looked him in the eye, "Can we not do this now? I'll spend the day with you tomorrow, you can ask me anything and I'll tell you true. Just not today, please." She beseeched him quietly.

Harry held up his hands in surrender and the conversation was dropped, just as the George entered the room, closely followed by the rest of male members of the Weasley clan. The rest of the afternoon with the Weasleys was cheerful bliss: after a feast of a dinner, which lasted a couple of hours, they sat around the fire enjoying lazy conversations and swapping gifts.

Hermione regretfully made her departure just before five, allowing time to change before heading off with her parents to spend the evening with Richard and his parents in York. The evening was more pleasant than Hermione had anticipated: Her argument with Richard the night before seemed to have been forgotten, and the evening was full of smiles, laughter, good food and excellent wine. Hermione, once again, played her part of the doting fiancé to perfection, and no one had the faintest idea of her and Richard's most recent disagreement.

###

As promised, Hermione spent Boxing Day with Harry at Grimmauld Place. Andromeda looked in for a couple of hours with Teddy, but after they had left, Harry and Hermione sat down in the drawing room with two large mugs of tea, and Harry got straight to the point.

"So," He started, "Tell me true, what's really going on between you and Draco Malfoy?"

Hermione sighed, "Honestly? I have no idea." She said, and when Harry gave her a disbelieving look she hurried to continue.

"We've both matured over the war, and since the Battle at Hogwarts, I guess we've both silently agreed to bury the hatchet, as it were. And we've become fairly close, I guess, sharing a tower, which has become our little sanctuary to escape all the whispers that follow us both around nowadays. And when all the animosity is dropped, he's actually not a bad person to be around." Hermione tried to explain.

Harry frowned, "That didn't really answer my question," he pointed out, continuing slowly, "I mean, from what I saw at Slughorn's party, and some things Narcissa mentioned the other night – He was at your party on Christmas Eve, wasn't he? It seems there's something more than friendship between the two of you."

It was Hermione's turn to frown, "Wonderful, you've been gossiping about me with Mrs Malfoy." She accused, and Harry chuckled.

"Look," Hermione said seriously, "I don't really know what there is between us – it's complicated." She said haltingly.

Harry looked at her intently for a moment, as though steeling himself to say something; he took a deep breath and finally asked about what had been bugging him for weeks:

"Does this complication have anything to do with the engagement ring you were wearing on September 1st?" He asked.

Hermione paled slightly, and chocked on her tea, "You saw that?" She managed to ask, after a decent amount of coughing, and Harry nodded.

"It was only a brief glimpse, and I don't think anyone else saw it," He assured her, "So who's the lucky guy?"

Hermione looked at him for a moment, ignoring his question for the moment. "Why didn't you say anything before now?" She asked.

"Because I knew you would tell me when you were ready, I didn't want to push you. But now, I think some explanation is needed." Harry smiled, "Now, answer my question."

Hermione nodded, "His name is Richard. Richard Alden, he's a Muggle, his parents and my parents are old friends. It's a romance that has spiralled out of control: my parents believe me more in love than I actually am, but I intend to get out of it." Hermione said.

"So how did it come about?" Harry asked, probing for more detail.

"Richard and I grew up together, he's a couple of years older than me, and in the summer after fourth year, there was an attraction that was never there before. We flirted a little, but nothing really came of it at that time as I returned to Hogwarts and we didn't speak for the entire school year. But, when I returned home after fifth year, the attraction was still there and our relation progressed to the next level – he was my first and I was quite infatuated at the time. We had a summer romance, it wasn't exactly serious but it wasn't casual either, and that was when my parents started promoting the match, they believed we were the perfect couple. And then that Christmas, in sixth year, I spent the Holidays at home and we picked up where we left off – I'll admit, there may have been a slight revenge element to that, as I was angry at Ron." Hermione admitted, and Harry laughed, but didn't speak, allowing Hermione to continue.

"For the most part, I tried to keep my Muggle life separate from the Wizarding world – after Hogwarts I intended to live in the Wizarding world, with limited contact with my Muggle past. But of course, Voldemort was gaining power, my family were in more danger than they ever realised, and that Christmas I started putting up Magical defences and wards, and told my parents to start planning for going into hiding. It was just before I returned to Hogwarts in January that my mother first mentioned the idea of an engagement., but at the time I didn't pay much attention and gave a vague answer – I had bigger things on my mind at that point, and thought it would be better to discuss it properly next summer."

Harry listened in silence, absorbing every word, for which Hermione was thankful. Now that she had started her narrative, it was easy to keep talking, but if he interrupted her now, she didn't think she would be able to continue.

"But, summer came and things turned critical. I went home and told my parents they would be going into hiding within three weeks – I didn't tell them exactly what I was planning, because I knew they would argue with me and flatly refuse to co-operate. But the subject of the engagement was brought up again and I didn't have the heart to tell my mother 'No'." Hermione admitted, a lump forming in her throat at the memory.

"In less than three weeks I would be erasing myself from their memories. I would be going off to fight a war I never thought I would survive: in my mind these were the last days I had with my family, and maybe it was selfish of me, but I wanted those days to be perfect and happy. I'm an only child, my mother's only daughter, and I know it has always been her dream to plan the perfect wedding for me. And as a girl I used to dream of the perfect wedding and making plans with my mother, so being the selfish person that I am, I gave my mother the answer she wanted, never thinking I would actually have to follow through, and spending three weeks in family bliss."

Hermione wiped a stray tear from her eye before taking a deep breath to continue, while Harry remained silent.

"But, we fought, we won and we survived in record timing and now my little white lie has come back around to but me on my arse." Hermione stated.

Harry snorted, in spite of himself, at Hermione's choice of words, and Hermione allowed herself to laugh.

"But I still don't understand," Harry said after a moment, "Why can't you just explain this to your parents, and Richard?" He asked.

"Ah," Hermione said grimly, "the plot thickens." And she told him about the financial side of the engagement, after which Harry's response failed to impress Hermione.

"So, you're like, High-Society rich?" He clarified and Hermione stared at him.

"Unbelievable," she said, "Why is _that_ the only aspect people focus on?"

Harry chuckled, "I always knew you had a fair amount of money," he told her, "Every time Ron ever made mention of his lack of money, you looked even more uncomfortable than I did. I know I have a hefty fortune under Gringotts, so it figured you had just as much, if not more, at your disposal. So how are you planning to get out of it?" He asked.

"I need to figure out how to make the business stronger, how much it will cost, and find an alternative cash source. If I can prove we don't need the Alden's money then there will be no need for the marriage, and I'm free." Hermione explained, "Which means my new bed-time reading material is accounting books. It's marvellous fun!" She mocked.

Harry laughed again, then asked more serious, "Does Malfoy know all this?"

"Yes," Hermione admitted, "He, like you, saw the ring on September first but I didn't tell him anything at the time and he let it drop. However, when the Witch Weekly article was printed, he put two and two together, and he was actually the one who made me realise that the money could be key to why my parents were overly supportive of the match. He met Richard the other night." She added after a moments quiet.

"Oh yeah?" Harry said with thinly veiled amusement, "How did that go?"

Hermione gave an amused glare, "They were perfectly civil to one another, though I don't think they liked each other much."

"Really?" Harry put on an overly theatrical air of disbelief, "The fiancé and the love interest didn't get along? Shocking!"

Hermione threw a couch cushion at him with a laugh, and Harry continued seriously.

"I'm not going to tell you to stay away from Malfoy, if you can see good in him, then I will trust your judgement. And I will even admit that I do believe he is a better person after the war. But please be careful, you're getting yourself into a bit of a sticky love triangle, and I don't want to see you get hurt. Just, take things slowly with Malfoy, especially while you're tangled in this engagement."

Hermione smiled, "Don't worry Harry, I don't want to see me hurt either." She assured him, "And besides, it's not really a 'love' triangle, not when there is no love between Richard and I anymore, at least not on my side. And I have no intention of falling in love with Draco Malfoy."

"That's the funny thing about love," Harry said, sounding rather wise, "Just because you don't intend for it to happen, it doesn't necessarily follow that it wont."

* * *

**_A/N: Well, there it is. A little shorter that the others, but I hope it clears a few things up._**

**_As ever, I love to hear what you guys think...and what do you reckon? Should Hermione heed Harry's advice, and take it slow? (Obviously, I already know her decision as the next chapter has pretty much been written, ;) but I'd love to hear your opinions)_**

**_I'll try and update quicker this time, but for now, goodnight_**

**_xBx_**


	22. Chapter 22: The Point of No Return

_**A/N: Finally, it's here, I'm sorry about the delay. There was a lot of re-writing to do, and it is the longest chapter yet. I hope it's not too long, but the words just kept coming.**_

_**Thank you for all my reviews, you guys are truly fantastic! And thank you to everyone who has read/favourited/added me to your story alerts, I appreciate the support :)**_

_**xBx**_

****WARNING** _T__he rating has changed to an M for this chapter...which is probably a bit of a spoiler for the chapter too ;)_**

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**~ Chapter 22: The Point of No Return ~**

The next week Hermione spent most of her day with her head in her books, working an equal amount on her studies and figuring out the finances of the family business. Yet while her daytimes found her surrounded my mountains of papers, parchments and textbooks, her evenings were devoted entirely to her family and friends: On the evenings that she spent with Harry, he happily refrained from discussing Hermione's engagement with Richard and her growing closeness to Draco – though this may have had something to do with the fact they were almost always joined by Ron and Ginny – instead they spent hours in preparation for the New Years Eve party that would be happening at Grimmauld Place.

With regards to Richard: Hermione had been able to smooth over their disagreement from Christmas Eve, despite how galling it was to simper to him – she truly felt more like a people-pleasing Hufflepuff, rather than the defiant Gryffindor she was. She consoled herself that she was merely playing a part to ensure her victory further down the line, which was more the cunning Slytherin, as opposed to the well-doing Hufflepuff. Though when she realised that this thought made her feel better about herself, she had to question her state of mind: since when was a Gryffindor happy to think themselves as more of a Slytherin than a Hufflepuff? _Sweet Merlin, I'm having a severe identity crisis and loosing my mind all in one go!_ Hermione thought to herself.

Yet despite appearing as the perfect happy couple to outsiders, Hermione still felt there was an underlying tension still running between her and Richard, but she resolved to ignore it until it Richard decided he wanted to confront it - it was just easier that way.

By the time New Years Eve arrived, Hermione had done most of her homework, but she was still struggling to get a real thorough grip on the finer points of accounting. Her parents her gone down to London the day before, as they did every New Years that the family remained in England for the holidays, but Hermione had decided to stay behind and make the most of the empty office to get to grips with the most recent figures, which were still on her father's computer. After spending hours trying to get to grips with trend analysis and forecasting, Hermione glanced at the clock on the computer screen and did a double take: was it really seven-thirty?

"Crap!" She croaked, having not used her voice all day. She was supposed to be at Grimmauld Place in thirty minutes to welcome guests at Harry's side. Leaving the books where they were, and switching off the monitor, she dashed upstairs to shower and change.

Forty minutes later Hermione stood in front of her mirror, making sure she was good to go. She was wearing a simple white, A-line dress, with capped sleeves, that fell to her mid-thigh. She wore knee-high, brown leather boots, and finished the outfit with a matching coloured, wide belt that emphasised her small waist and complimenting curves. With her hair, she had simply pinned the front half back, allowing for the rest to tumble around her shoulders, and the whole ensemble had a slight country feel to it, the only thing missing was the hat. She wore the earrings Draco had given her a week ago, but left her engagement ring in its box in her dresser – for tonight her fiancé didn't exist; Hermione was intending to enjoy a night of freedom and block out all her Muggle worries.

She slung her overnight bag over her shoulder, and picked up her jacket ready to leave, but frowned: she felt she was forgetting something incredibly important.

"Drinks!" She realised almost immediately, and sighed. She was already ten minutes late, and this necessary trip down to the cellar would put her back another five minutes, Harry was going to kill her as the first guests would be arriving any minute. She walked through her sitting room, toward her door, but just as she was reaching for the handle, there was a knock from the other side that caused her to freeze. She held her breath, knowing full well the only person it could be, and knowing likewise that she wanted to avoid him right now.

As if intending to confirm Hermione's suspicions, Richard's voice travelled through the wood: "Hermione? You in there?"

Yes, she was. But she wasn't about to shout it out. Frustrated that she was already ridiculously late, she silently cursed Richard for blocking her way and making her even later. And then she remembered, in the form of an old memory and the frustrated tone's of Ron's exasperation: _Are you a witch or not?!_

Hermione grinned to herself and turned on the spot, appearing a moment later down in the cellar, where she perused the shelves looking for the perfect bottles to take. Grabbing a bottle-carrier from the corner, she took a couple of Muggle red wines, and a bottle of champagne to drink at midnight. She ignored the selection of Wizard wines and liquor, knowing Harry would have an ample supply of those, but went to the bar to collect the limes, tequila salt, and a bottle of gold tequila – she had mentioned tequila slammers to Ginny earlier in the week and she was know regretting the conversation, no doubt she would regret it even more later on.

She ascended back into the kitchen, intending to ensure Richard was off the premises before she locked the door and disappeared, when she almost ran headlong into Richard himself.

"There you are!" He smiled, "I was hoping to catch you, but I thought I may have missed you."

Hermione forced a smile, "Technically, you should have. I should have left about twenty minutes ago." She told him, sidestepping him and continuing up to the entrance hall, adding: "And shouldn't you be at the bar?"

"I'm on my way there now," Richard's voice answered from directly behind her, "But I wanted to call here and persuade you to change your mind and spend the night with me, instead."

Hermione sighed impatiently, "You know I'm going to Harry's party, it's been planned since before Christmas, I don't know why you're bringing it up again."

"Because it's New Year's Eve," Richard stated, "You're supposed to want to spend it with the man you're going to spend the rest of your life with, not Harry bleeding Potter."

"Oh good god!" Hermione turned to face Richard, getting more impatient by the second. "I don't have time for this! And are we seriously going to have this conversation? I spent Christmas Eve with you, here, at the tedious soirée. I was there at the bar on Christmas afternoon, and I've changed my plans around so that every time you have been here for dinner, I have been her also. What more do you want? I have hardy seen Harry and the Weasleys over the holidays, not to mention my Godson – these people are my second family, and I am bringing in the New Year with them, whether you like it or not." Hermione told him.

Richard changed tack immediately, "Is _he_ going to be there?" He demanded.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, "He?" she repeated, "Forgive me, but there will be a number of males present, I believe you will have to be more specific." She told him coldly.

"Draco Malfoy." He stated, echoing her tone.

Hermione gave an incredulous laugh, "Unbelievable," she muttered, thinking of Melissa and Richard's blatant double standard. "I have no idea, and does it really matter if he is?" She asked, "Regardless, I'm still going to the party, preferably this instant."

Richard refused to get the hint, and continued, "So another holiday passes where I wont see my fiancé." He stated.

"Are you for real?!" She asked, rather loudly; Richard was one comment away from breaking Hermione's calm and unleashing her temper upon himself. "Did we not just say I spent Christmas eve _and _Christmas afternoon with you? And even if I was there tonight, you would be working, and shmoozing your key customers and clients, while I would be sat in the background, bored out of my mind. Why would I do that, when I can be having fun at a party where I know and like everyone?"

"We spent Christmas Eve in the same house, but I didn't see you." Richard pointed out, ignoring the rest of Hermione's speech. "As soon as Draco Malfoy entered the room, you were lost to me."

"He was there at my invitation, he knew no one in the room. It was therefore my responsibility, as a good hostess, to introduce him around the room. It's not my fault you didn't follow!" She snapped,

"You didn't give me a chance!" He retorted, his anger finally beginning to show, "Further more, you told me _you_ would come and find _me_! And instead you disappeared for an obscene amount of time, with another man!" he accused, his voice raising toward the end his accusation.

"I left the party early! There's a difference-" Richard began to interrupt her, but Hermione held up her hand to stop him, and continued to talk over him, her voice raising to the point of shouting.

"When I left the party to go downstairs, I said 'goodbye' to a couple in the hallway, and then in foyer another group were just leaving the house! The party was beginning to come to end by the time _I_ left the room. _You_ on the other hand: for your information, I _did_ intend to find you, but when I cast me eye around to find you, you had disappeared! So had Melissa, surprisingly enough, and you were gone for a fair while! Appearing an obscene amount of time later, in the middle of the god-damn party!" Hermione yelled, "So don't you dare lecture me about my decorum, when you are so clearly lacking in it yourself!"

"So he told you then?" Richard spat, with venom, and Hermione scowled.

"By 'he' I assume you mean Malfoy? Well if you must know, he didn't say a word." She told him in a dangerous whisper that was just as frightening as her yelling, "I have a perfect pair of eyes of my own, and so I saw for myself! But if he noticed, chances are others noticed as well. It's time you learn discretion or you need to desist because I will not be made a fool of! I promise you now, another stunt like that and you will pay for it dearly!" Hermione threatened.

Richard, it seemed, did not appreciate being spoken to in such a way, nor did he take too kindly to being threatened by a woman.

"I think you've been spending too much time with these friends of yours, and clearly their having a negative influence on you. I don't want you going to this party tonight, you need to come with me." He stated.

Hermione looked fit to explode with anger and indignation – Richard's demands had caused her to bypass angry and head strait to exhibiting the wrath of hell: "How. Dare. You! We may be entering an arranged marriage, but this is not the sixteenth century! You do not command me! I am not a dog, who comes when she is called!" Hermione practically screamed in his face.

Richard sneered, "Yes, an arranged marriage." He admitted, "And while I do still care for you, I won't deny our parents have had more of a say in this than we two have. But perhaps you should remember that fact – as I understand it, this marriage is mutually beneficial: I have a lot of hard cash, apparently you could use some."

Hermione's eyes flashed at the presumption – it may be true at the moment, but Hermione was certain there was an alternative, and Richard didn't need to know the full truth.

"I don't know where you heard that from, but you should readjust you opinions." She told him in a dangerous quiet, she knew full well her mother and father would not disclose financial information to the Aldens, no matter how close friends: Richard's comments were purely speculation, trying to gauge from Hermione's reaction how the land lay. But Hermione knew this game inside out – unlike Richard, her family had played this game for generations, this was in her blood.

"But I won't deny, your freely accessible cash _is_ your main attraction, despite the fact we can go without it. However, you should remember that you get more out of this union than I do. Do you think you would be on speaking terms with even _half_ of those who attended here last week, if we weren't engaged? Your family are still classed as pretentious upstarts, with 'new money', and if it were not for our fathers being good friends, you would struggle to get the introductions you have so far received." She reminded him,

"If you are to continue in this circle, you need me: you need to attach yourself to my family's name, history and heritage – I tell you now, I will remain Hermione Roseby-Granger, and my children will take that name as well. The name 'Roseby' still means something, but 'Alden'? Nothing. So you would do well to remember that in future, and now I think it's time for you to leave."

Hermione finished, in a tone that allowed no argument, and Richard, seething with indignation, sidestepped around her and stormed out slamming the door behind him to ensure Hermione knew his displeasure. Hermione locked the door behind him, before turning on the spot and finally making it to 12 Grimmauld Place.

When Hermione walked through the front door, she was greeted by the sound of a party in full swing. Glancing at the grandfather clock down the hall Hermione realised she was now over forty-five minutes late, having never been late for anything in her life this caused Hermione to scowl – another reason to regret _not_ hexing Richard's balls of. On second thoughts, hexing was too clean: surgical castration, veterinary style, was the way to go, _without_ anaesthesia. Hermione allowed herself an evil smile, just as Kreacher popped up beside her.

"Miss Hermione!" the elf squeaked, in obvious relief, "I is beginning to worry, Master Harry has been asking for you." He declared, and Hermione grimaced.

"I'm so, so sorry, Kreacher. I got held up. Would you do a me favour ant take these-" she held out the bottles, which Kreacher obligingly took, "Upstairs for me and tell Harry I will be there in a moment, I just want to drop my bag and coat in my room."

The elf nodded, "Kreacher will do that for miss." He declared before vanishing with a pop.

Five minutes later, Hermione entered the dining room and smiled, Harry and Kreacher had done well. The large table had disappeared, and had been replaced by a long trestle-table covered in a cloth, and displaying drinks, snacks, glasses and plates. A couple of chairs and a coffee table had been brought in from the adjoining drawing room, and placed around the fire at the end of the room, gathered around which was a healthy-sized group of guests. Music was coming from somewhere, but Hermione didn't have time to figure out where as Harry placed himself in front of her.

"Finally! Where the hell have you been?" he asked in greeting, sounding more relieved than angry.

"I'm sorry," Hermione apologised, "It's a long story, I was ready to leave at about ten-past eight, but then-" she hesitated, not wanting to dwell on what had happened, "I got held up." She finished lamely.

Harry frowned, "You look murderous. Does this have anything to do with Richard?" He asked shrewdly.

Hermione scowled, "Yes, unfortunately. But it's done, I'm going to forget about it: for tonight he doesn't exist. I'm going to get a drink, and start enjoying this fabulous party." She stated, attempting to side-step Harry and make her way to the table opposite her, but Harry stopped her.

"Oh no," he smiled, "You look like you're going to down an entire bottle. That, or smash someone over the head with one. Now, while the former would be amusing, and would certainly get the party started in spectacular fashion, I don't think you would like waking up tomorrow and reading the headline: _Hermione 'party-girl' Granger – war hero turned drunk_." Harry said with a smile, and Hermione gave a small laugh in spite of herself.

"You might want to save that for later, after certain people have left, like Kingsley for instance: You don't want to embarrass yourself in front of our Minister now, do you? Also, the head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures is here, and I know you're thinking of a career there, so I would refrain from drinking too much in his presence as well."

"Fine," Hermione conceded.

"Good. Now, go through there-" he indicated to the double doors thrown wide, opening into the formal drawing room, "Andie is through there with Teddy, I know our Godson will make you cheerful again. I think Ginny is through there as well, hiding form her parents." He added. Hermione nodded, and went in the direction she had been pointed, knowing full well Harry wouldn't refrain from dragging her if she resisted too much.

She saw Andie immediately after stepping away from Harry, she was stood beside the grand piano, Teddy in her arms talking to someone Hermione couldn't full see. But when Andromeda shifted, Hermione's step faulted as she recognised the woman sat at the piano with long blonde hair. She recovered instantly, remembering that of course Andromeda wouldn't be here if Narcissa wasn't able to come also. And if Narcissa Malfoy was here, it was highly likely that her son would be here, somewhere, too.

As soon as this thought entered her mind, Hermione's heart rate accelerated and her stomach was a mass of anxious butterflies. What on earth was she going to say to him? This would be the first time she saw him since kissing him – sure, the Firewhiskey was partly to blame for such a blatant crossing of boundaries, but she was well aware of what she had been doing, well aware of where it was leading, and well aware that she actually _wanted_ it go where it was leading.

Ignoring her discomfort, she smiled at the two women as she approached them and when the pair noticed Hermione's approach, they turned their smiles onto her: Andromeda smiled widely, while Narcissa's seemed a rather nervous smile.

"Hermione!" Andromeda called in greeting, smiling wide, "It's good to finally see you."

Hermione smiled, and tried not to roll her eyes at the 'finally'. "It's good to see you," she said, before turning her attention to Teddy, "Hello beautiful boy," she cooed, as Teddy held out his arms toward her. Hermione grinned as Andie passed him over.

"He's gotten so big!" Hermione said, slightly awed, "Is he walking yet?" she asked.

"Nearly," Andromeda said, "but he's into everything, as it is, once he's mastered walking there'll be no stopping him." She laughed, "You know my sister, of course." She added, bringing Narcissa into the conversation.

Hermione swallowed nervously, but smiled at Malfoy family matriarch, "We haven't been formally introduced, but yes. How are you, Mrs Malfoy?" Hermione asked.

"Please, Miss Granger, call me Cissa, or Narcissa at least. Mrs Malfoy was my mother-in-law, and a bigger bitch never breathed." The blonde declared, bluntly, and Hermione gave a shocked laugh.

"Ok," Hermione managed to say, after her initial shock. "Then you should call me Hermione." She said, absently tucking her hair behind her ear. Narcissa gave a tiny, knowing smirk when she noticed the earrings dangling from the brunette's ears.

"Those earrings look lovely on you," she commented, rearranging her smirk into a smile. Hermione couldn't help the blush that crept into her cheeks – she forgot she was wearing what could be deemed Malfoy-heirlooms in her ears.

"Thank you," Hermione said consciously, trying not to give over to nervous laughter. They were spared lapsing into an awkward silence by the arrival of Draco, carrying two drinks.

"Nice of you to finally show, Granger," He smirked. "We began to think you'd bailed."

Despite the flutter her spirits had been sent into due to his proximity, Hermione managed a scowl, "Has Harry been bitching about my absence to _everyone_?" she asked.

The two women raised their brows at Hermione's less than lady-like statement, wile Draco snorted. Hermione mentally kicked herself for her choice of words. "Sorry, I meant: Has Harry been voicing his concern over my lateness to everyone?"

"He might have mentioned it," Andie smiled, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I was supposed to be here about an hour ago," Hermione admitted, "But something happened and I got held up." She said evasively.

"Oh yeah?" Draco smirked, "Parents? Or a really good book?"

Hermione glared, "My parent's are spending the night here in London, as they do every year, except when we're skiing in France. And while I may have spent longer than I intended reading about accounting," she admitted, "it wasn't actually that which delayed me. I had a rather irritating visitor, but it's of no significance." She finished with a growl, before deciding to change the subject.

"Two drinks, Malfoy? Either you're really thirsty, or you have a bit of a problem?" She smiled sweetly.

"Change of subject duly noted." Draco nodded, "And only one drink is for me, the other is for you. I noticed Potter didn't let you near the drinks when you got here, and it seems your 'non-significant visitor' put you in a foul mood, you look like you need the pick-me-up." He cocked his head to the side, and grinned mischievously, "You drink Firewhiskey, right?"

For the second time in five minutes Hermione felt the heat rise to her cheeks, "Thank you," she said, not meeting his eye, and trying to ignore the shrewd looks from the two women shrewdly watching this exchange.

They weren't the only two paying close attention to Hermione and Draco: unbeknown to Hermione, Ginny and Blaise were sat on a couch at the other end of the room, watching their two friends closely. Teddy was also paying a certain amount of attention; he had been contemplating Hermione's hair and had turned his own into a replica shade of brown, with curls to match, and when he heard Draco's voice (to which he had obviously become accustomed to) he smiled and his eyes changed from the green they had been to a steely grey.

Ever the most observant, Ginny was quick to point this out to Blaise, who grinned wickedly and the pair chose that moment to join the group gathered around the piano, coming up to them just after Hermione had thanked Draco for the drink.

"Hermione," Ginny said, "You took your time getting here."

Hermione sighed, "Should I expect that from everyone this evening? Because so far, that's the only way I've been greeted. Zabini." She added, greeting the Itallion, earning a nod in return.

Blaise then looked at his friend, "You two work fast, we didn't realise you had a kid." He mocked and Ginny sniggered. Both Hermione and Draco looked confused, so Ginny looked pointedly at Teddy, to whom everyone then looked at, and Hermione sighed.

"Oh Teddy, really?" She whined to the child, "You need to stop mixing my traits with those of males: first Harry, now Draco Malfoy, Seriously? You're going to get me into trouble one day."

Teddy's response was a cheeky gurgling laugh that had Hermione laughing in an instant: he was just too cute to stay mad at – it was probably a good thing Andromeda had the main parental rights, Hermione would let Teddy get away with absolutely anything.

Andie gave a sly smile, "Well, at least we have some idea what your children will look like, if you ever have any." She said, to which Ginny and Blaise laughed while Hermione and Draco, both avoiding each other's eyes, stood there uncomfortable and mortified.

"Okay," Hermione said, handing Teddy back to Andromeda, "You take him, and I'll take this," she took the drink from Draco, still not looking him in the eyes, "And now I'm going to escape the awkward conversation this has turned into, and go mingle."

True to her word she disappeared back into the crowd, Ginny and Blaise followed her instantly and Draco only stayed long enough to drain his glass and say:

"Thanks for that, Aunt Andromeda," He grimaced, "You two are terrible when you get together. Please at least _try_ to not embarrass me like that again." He pleaded, and his mother smiled indulgently.

"I've been on house-arrest since August, this is my first time out. Don't I get _some_ leeway?" Narcissa smiled innocently.

Draco turned and walked around muttering something about 'not enough alcohol.'

When he was at a safe distance, Narcissa looked up at Andromeda with a significant expression, "Did you notice the earrings?"

"Exactly as you described, I saw." Andie nodded, "But more than that, did you notice the tension?"

Narcissa smiled, "Something's going on, undoubtedly." She agreed, "Should we stir?"

Andromeda looked wary, "I don't know, perhaps not. Just observe for now."

Hermione made her way through the crowd, stopping here and there to talk to every Weasley (at which point Blaise mysteriously disappeared.), catching up with Kingsley, and starting up an acquaintance with Nick Carmicheal from the Creature department. She finally found Neville and Emmy, who were sat around the coffee table with Dean, Seamus and Ron (At this point Blaise mysteriously re-appeared, this time in the company of Draco).

"Hermione!" Seamus called, vacating his seat, into which Blaise and Ginny immediately fell. "It's been ages! You leave your hat at the ranch?" he joked, taking in her appearance before giving her a brief hug. Draco, who had perched on the arm of the chair Seamus had just vacated, noticed Seamus' appraisal of Hermione, and didn't like the hungry look in his eye.

"Don't mock my outfit, you're just jealous your legs can't pull this look off." She smirked, taking a perch on the arm of the couch, next to Ron.

Did Hermione just flirt with the Irishman? Draco liked that even less, and then she sat next to the Weasel, Draco actually hated that. He watched with narrowed eyes as she fell effortlessly into conversation with the comic-relief third of the Golden Trio: whatever he was saying had Hermione laughing and in no time at all her remaining anger had dissipated and she looked as care-free as the rest of them.

Draco was roused from his thoughts by Blaise's snigger, and Ginny's laughing voice.

"Could you want her more?" she asked, a ridiculously huge grin spread across her face.

Draco cleared his throat and took a drink, "Don't know what you're talking about." He muttered, tearing his gaze away from the brunette, and looking down at the couple in the chair.

Blaise snorted, while Ginny shook her head. "Honestly, mate," Blaise said, "You have to do something, otherwise you're going to end up even more pathetic than you are now."

Draco glared, but his muttered curse went unheard as Ginny called Hermione's attention to them.

"Hermione!" Ginny called, and the brunette looked over with a smile, "Tell us about your party on Christmas Eve. I never did get to hear _all _the details." She said with a smirk.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, but instead of answering Ginny, she turned her eyes toward Blaise and smiled, "Hey, Zabini? You met Ginny's parents yet?" she asked, and Draco chuckled at his friend's obvious discomfort.

"Not yet, I've been avoiding them." He admitted, and Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Clearly courage is not in the Slytherin repertoire," the redhead drawled.

Hermione, however, grinned wickedly, "Ooh, good! I get to watch the show."

"You had a party and didn't invite us?" Emmy chimed, "I'm hurt." The accompanying smile told Hermione she was joking.

Hermione smiled, "My _parents_ had a party, not me." She clarified, "I was just there to smile and entertain."

"Speaking of your entertaining," Draco smirked, "Do we get a showcase this evening? There's a rather fine instrument in the other room."

Hermione glared at him, while Ginny exclaimed: "I didn't know you could play the piano!"

"She does," Draco clarified, "She sings as well."

"You have to play for us." Ginny demanded, in that tone she had inherited from her mother, which brook no argument.

"I actually hate you a little bit right now." She said to Draco, who simply smirked in that annoyingly attractive way of his. Despite how intently Hermione had avoided his eyes, she had been completely aware of his presence and had followed his movements out of the corner of her eyes. But now that she had finally made eye contact she was finding it increasingly difficult to look away and her mind was full of the memories from Christmas Eve, and all she could think in that moment was how much she wanted to kiss him again, and wrap herself around him.

Thankfully, a well-timed distraction arose in the form of Harry followed by a couple who looked slightly uncomfortable and nervous and who were eyeing the crowd warily.

"Guys," Harry smiled, completely unaware of what he was interrupting. "This is my cousin, Dudley." He introduced, and the young man smiled nervously, "And this is his girlfriend, Beth."

As everyone exchanged their 'Hi's and 'How are you?'s, Hermione shifted over to the arm of the chair occupied by Neville and Emmy, Ron taking Hermione's original seat as Dean and Seamus moved over to create room on the couch for Beth. Dudley perched on the arm of the couch next his girlfriend, and Harry moved around the coffee table to lean against the fireplace.

To avoid the awkward silence beginning to ensue, Hermione looked at Beth, "Don't look so nervous, we're all nice people here, we just have a strange quirk." She said, and Beth laughed nervously,

"I'm sorry, this is just a lot to get my head around. And this house, is kind of weird. No offence," she said looking apologetically at Harry, while the others laughed.

"She's got a point Harry," Seamus said, "The place looks great and all, but the elf heads lining the hall walls are a little creepy."

Harry grimaced, "Permanent sticking charm, can't do anything about them. The house has an…interesting past." He told Beth.

Draco snorted, "What Potter is trying to say, Beth, is that the Blacks were a crazy family – I'm talking certifiable crazy."

Taking in Harry's frown, Draco added: "Oh come on, I'm not saying there were all psychotic, but even you have to admit, a lot of them weren't all there."

"Well that's what happens when purebloods all intermarry," Hermione smirked, "The crazy genes start to multiply. You purebloods should perhaps take this as an example: maybe it's time to let the prejudices slide, and open up your hunting ground a little more – it's not all about pedigree."

Draco laughed at that, and gave her a significant look, "The words: pot, kettle and black, spring to mind Granger." And Hermione knew he was thinking of what he witnessed at her home – only those of their social set had been invited; there was no mixing ranks there. Maybe she was being a little hypocritical, but she wasn't going to admit it.

"That is completely different: I'm talking about the purebloods not wanting to associate with anyone less than a half-blood." Hermione defended.

"Right, and that's in no way similar to how Muggles with old distinguished families, that stretch back generations, dislike associating with those with 'new money', now, is it?" Draco retaliated with a smirk. "Face it Granger, there is as much prejudice in the Muggle world as there is in the Wizarding."

"But it's less to do with blood-status, and more to do with money." She countered, everyone in the group had gone quiet now, watching the argument progress, turning their heads from side to side, as if they were watching a tennis rally.

"Is it?" Draco questioned, "Really? Isn't heritage and bloodline one and the same, when it really comes down to it?"

Hermione wasn't sure what to say: she thought of what she had said to Richard earlier, about how she had practically told him that she was better than he was because of her heritage – wasn't she basically telling him that she had better blood than he did?

"Are they always like this?" Beth asked Ginny quietly, who nodded, and then Beth asked: "How long have they been together?"

Ginny burst out laughing, unable to control herself, "Oh, boy." Ginny grinned, "Even the newbie realises what's going on, before those two."

"I'm going to go get a drink," Hermione said standing up, deciding to avoid the awkwardness that would undoubtedly start, by running away. Harry followed her to the drinks table; now that she seemed to have calmed down, he intended to find out what had angered in the first place.

"What happened earlier?" Harry asked quietly, so they wouldn't be overheard. "What did Richard say to anger you so much?"

Hermione sighed, "Harry, I really don't want to get into right now. We argued and my anger got the better of me. Let's just leave it at that."

"What happened to the happy façade you were trying to keep going? I thought you needed to keep him happy until you could dissolve the engagement properly?" He asked, with a small smile and Hermione scowled.

"I do," She admitted reluctantly, "But he's making it extremely difficult."

"You need to smooth it over: start the New Year as you mean to go on, and all that." He told her, "You need to call him an apologise-"

"I didn't do anything that requires an apology! I just told the truth!" Hermione hissed indignantly, trying not to draw attention to them, but feeling Draco's gaze on her non-the-less.

"I know, but you still need to resolve the argument." Harry said calmly, "And you know I'm right, I can see it in your face."

Hermione glared defiantly for a moment before sighing in defeat. "Fine," she mumbled, "I'll go through to the other room."

Harry frowned, "Erm, you do know there's no phone here?" He reminded her.

Hermione gave him a scathing look before reaching down to pull her Blackberry mobile hidden in her boot, "I keep this with me just in case my parents need to get me in an emergency." She glanced at the screen, "You get a surprisingly good signal here." She added, before making her way through to the drawing room.

When she was over by the window, her back to the room, she scrolled through her contacts and found the number for the bar. After a couple of rings, Matthew, the Bar-Manager answered.

"Hi, Matt, It's Hermione," She said in a falsely cheerful voice, "Happy New Year. Is Richard available to talk?" She asked.

"Hey, Hermione. He's not here at the minute," Matthew explained, "He left about an hour ago, I think. Said he was only going to be a couple of hours, he wants to be here at midnight. Do you want me to get him to call you when he gets here?"

"No, that's okay." Hermione said, "It's not important. Goodnight." She hung up the phone with a frown and scrolled down to Richard's mobile number. She hesitated before dialling, deciding to block her number before placing the call – Richard would be more likely to answer a private number just in case it was something to do with business.

After five rings, just as Hermione was getting ready to hang-up, someone answered but it wasn't the voice she was expecting. Her eyes widened and she pulled the phone from her ear to look at the screen. She had definitely dialled Richard's number, but it was Melissa's voice that came through the speaker.

"Hello?" Melissa repeated, and Hermione ended the call immediately. She took a deep breath, she could feel herself extremely close to losing it and knew she needed to get out of this room.

"Hermione?" Andromeda called to her, "Is there somewhere we can put Teddy down to sleep, where he wont be disturbed?"

Hermione turned around, "Yeah, erm, his cot is all made up in Harry's room, I'll take him up if you like." She tried to smile, but Andie frowned.

"Hermione, are you alright? You look upset." She asked concerned.

Hermione gave a shakey laugh, "I'm not upset. Believe me 'upset' is not what I'm feeling right now. _Furious_, yes, but not upset." She took another breath and managed to smile more naturally, "I'm going upstairs for five minutes anyway, calm down before I start getting questions and saying something I regret. See that picture frame behind you?" She pointed to the photo of teddy on the sideboard, "It's the baby monitor. I'll set it up when I get up there and you'll be able to see and hear Teddy in that. I'll but a silencing charm on the door as well, so if someone comes upstairs they wont disturb him."

Andromeda nodded, and handed Teddy to Hermione, still looking concerned, "Are you sure you're alright."

Hermione smiled at the concern, "I'm fine, honestly." She said, turning to escape to the hallway through the drawing room door, completely unaware for the first time tonight that Draco had been watching her every move from the piano, where he stood talking to his mother.

When Hermione had settled Teddy, she took her wand that was hidden in her other boot, and set up the monitor before leaving the room, closing the door quietly before silencing it as promised. Returning her wand to her boot, she then realised she still had her phone in her hand. In a sudden fit of rage she hurled the phone across the hallway, where it smashed against her door and fell to the floor.

"Wow," said a voice from the stairs, causing her to whip around in surprise, to see Draco looking wary, "Downstairs you looked seriously pissed off, now you look positively murderous. I'm seriously reconsidering coming to find you now, I feel it might be safer to just walk slowly away."

Hermione scowled, "It's not you I want to murder, don't worry."

Draco advanced up the final steps, "I feel a little bit better knowing that," he said, coming closer, "What happened?"

Hermione looked away from him, but didn't answer, making him step closer and put his hands on her arms, "What happened?" He repeated again.

Hermione shrugged out of his grasp and walked over to her phone, "It doesn't matter, its nothing." She told him, bending down to retrieve the now broken mobile, "Great, I broke it."

Draco sighed, followed Hermione and pulled out his wand, "Reparo," he muttered at the object in her hand, "There, now your Muggle… whatever it is, is fixed you can answer my question."

"I took Harry's advice, and it turned out to be a stupid thing to do." Hermione ranted.

"Understandable," Draco said, "But that still doesn't explain the mood."

Hermione contemplated for a moment, then decided to tell the truth, "Richard and I argued earlier this evening, he provoked me into saying some things that were completely true, but apparently not very nice." She admitted.

Draco smirked, "What did you say?" he asked.

"I called him and his family pretentious upstarts. And I told him he needs a connection to me if he wants to continue socialising with certain people." Hermione said, causing Draco to laugh.

"It's true!" Hermione defended, "Once the public know this engagement is over, he will be knocked down a few steps of the social-ladder. Over half the people at that party last week would not associate with the Aldens if they were not our family friends. I also confronted him about disappearing with Melissa." She added, a dangerous look crossing her face.

"How did that go?" Draco asked warily, noting the change of tone.

"I told him he needs to learn discretion or he has to stop. He didn't appreciate being told what to do. I called him to try and smooth things over, and it was Melissa who answered the call." Hermione said

"So, you're saying…" Draco started, and Hermione finished his sentence,

"I pretty much caught them in act, yes." She clarified.

"But this is good," Draco said, "You have proof, you can call this ridiculous engagement off properly now."

"Are you for real?" Hermione asked incredulously, "No way, not yet. Oh the engagement is over, no doubt about that. But I'm not going public with it yet. This engagement does not end because an Alden made a fool out of a Roseby-Granger." Hermione said heatedly,

"Hell no! This engagement ends because an Alden," Hermione almost sneered the name, "is not _good enough_ for a Roseby-Granger. And I intend to make sure _that_ is common knowledge when the dissolving of the engagement becomes public." Hermione declared. She then noticed the strange look Draco was giving her; it was a mixture of impressed admiration, and... lust?

"Why are you looking at my like that?" she asked warily.

"I've been used to the Gryffindor witch Hermione Granger, who can sometimes be a little annoying. But this Muggle Hermione Roseby-Granger has a vindictive Slytherin side, and it's incredibly hot." Draco stated, before closing the distance between them, putting his hands on Hermione's cheeks and crushing his lips to hers.

Hermione melted instantly, but just as she was about to wrap her arms around Draco's neck she changed her mind and instead placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away, shaking her head.

"No," she gasped, "I'm not going to stoop to his level." She said, but Draco didn't want to take no for an answer, moving his hands on her waist, he proceeded to gently kiss along her neck and collarbone, causing her to melt all over again.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he spoke in between kisses, "But didn't Richard tell you he still has feelings for you?"

"Yes, he did." Hermione confirmed, sounding slightly breathless and Draco smirked against her neck.

"And he still willingly cheated. Yet you have told him no such thing. You've never accepted this engagement; you don't care for him in that way and you've continued to see yourself as single. In which case, you would be stooping to his level." Draco continued.

"For some bizarre reason, your logic actually makes sense." Hermione admitted.

"Good." Draco said, before crushing his lips back to hers. This time Hermione had no second thoughts; she brought her arms around his neck, pulling him closer so that he was soon pushing her up against her bedroom door.

Without really thinking what she was doing, she reached behind her and turned the door handle and they fell back into her room. Hermione turned Draco around; their lips still locked together, and shut the door behind them, automatically turning the key in the lock with a resounding click. At some point she also dropped her phone on the floor, though she had no idea whether that was in the room our out in the hall way, but at this moment she couldn't care less.

Without hesitation, Hermione's hands travelled from Draco's hair down to his chest where she began to unbutton his shirt. Taking his lead from her, Draco removed the belt she was wearing, discarding it a second before she discarded his shirt, and then proceeded to slowly unzip her dress, his fingers trailing her spine causing her to shiver and move closer into him. Stepping backwards, Hermione pulled Draco toward the bed, and when her dress pooled around her feet she stepped out of it as Draco gently pushed her down onto the four-poster. Hermione leaned back into the covers as Draco knelt at her feet, trailing kisses down her thigh as he unzipped her boots, one at a time, and tossed them to the side. When he went to remove her right boot he chuckled softly as he pulled out her wand.

"I swear to Salazar, you keep your wand in the strangest places." He told her, holding it out to her. "You don't want to lose that."

Hermione giggled, and covered her face with one hand, taking her wand with the other. Knowing full well where this was leading, and knowing she didn't want to stop, she quickly cast a contraceptive charm while Draco finished removing her final boot, and tossed her wand onto the nightstand. Draco trailed his mouth back up her thigh, over her hip and onto her stomach. As he continued the trail upwards, Hermione pushed herself up, so that she was sitting by the time Draco's lips found hers again. Wasting no time, Hermione began working on removing Draco's trousers, Draco lifted her onto his hips and Hermione instinctively wrapped her legs around him pulling him closer and feeling his arousal pressing into the apex of her thighs as he moved them both into the middle of the bed.

As Hermione fell back against the pillows, Draco pulled back slightly, and looked her deep in the eyes.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, slightly breathless, his eyes completely unmasked for the first time, and Hermione could see he wanted this just as much as she did. "We're about to go past the point of no return." He added, when Hermione didn't speak right away, unaware she was mesmerised by his eyes.

Hermione nodded, "This isn't fuelled by revenge, if that's what you're thinking." She told him honestly, breathless herself and her voice thick with the want she was no longer troubling to hide, "And I think we past that point when I locked the door." She added with a lustful smirk.

Draco laughed, returning a similar smirk, before bringing his lips down to her throat, kissing delicately and then biting lightly in turns, his hands running all over her body: from her neck, down her arms, skimming her breasts, her stomach, her hips, eliciting the most delicious moans that made Draco need her even more.

Hermione's hands followed a similar path: from tangling in his hair, she raked them over his chest, feeling the definition of his abs, and the twitches of his muscles in response to her caress. She stoked down his arms, and ran her fingernails up and down his back, pulling him closer to her, not hard enough to leave long lasting marks, but giving enough pressure to cause Draco to shiver and nip at her neck with a moan, where he had been trailing kisses just a moment before. Within seconds their last pieces of clothing were discarded, Draco ran his hand back down Hermione's side, raking her thigh and hooking under her knee, he pulled her leg up over his hip and pushed inside with a deep need.

It was passionate, it was intense, neither had realised until that moment just how much they had wanted – how much they had needed – the other. The spark that had been ignited a week ago had turned into a raging inferno and now they moved together, moaned together, gasped together, with a desperate need they never knew was in them. Draco could feel himself close to climaxing, but he held back his pleasure, wanting Hermione to reach her peak before he let himself go. He fought hard to keep control, but Hermione's hands were in his hair, curling into fists, pulling him closer; her back arched, her head thrown back into the pillows, and he felt her tighten around him, and then she called his name in a sigh of pleasure, at which point Draco lost all control. He brought his lips to her shoulder, and called out her name in a strangled moan of pleasure as they climaxed together, finally getting the release they had been craving for what felt like months.

Hermione kept her hands twisted in Draco's hair, holding him close as their heartbeats slowed and their breathing calmed. Draco allowed some of his bodyweight to rest on Hermione, but he held himself up with an arm resting at her side, while his other hand gently cupped her cheek. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment before kissing her gently on the lips in act that was almost unbearably sweet that it took Hermione by surprise.

Draco gave a contented sigh, before rolling gently to Hermione's left side. He brought his right arm under Hermione's neck, around her shoulders, and pulled her gently to his side. Hermione lay there quietly, pressed against his side with her head resting on his shoulder and absent-mindedly running her fingers up and down a long scar running across his chest.

"You seem thoughtful," Draco said eventually, softly, into her hair. "What's on your mind?"

"How did you get this scar?" She asked, equally soft, still running her fingers across his chest.

Draco gave a low chuckle, "I'm not surprised you don't know." He muttered, "I got that in sixth year: it's Potter's handy-work." He told her, watching her face carefully for her reaction.

"Sectumpsempra!" she whispered in understanding, at which Draco frowned.

"He told you what he did?" Draco asked, slightly incredulous.

Hermione looked up at him, "Of course," she said, "We never had any secrets, that's why our bond was so strong. He was horrified at what he'd done; I've never seen him in such a state. I believe he truly hated himself at that point. He didn't know what that spell did – if he did, he would never have used it on you."

Draco frowned, and opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione stopped him, "Don't start on the stupidity of using an unknown spell, I gave him that lecture at the time." She told him, and Draco laughed. As Hermione had been talking, Draco had began running his hand up and down her right arm, but he stopped with a frown as he reached her shoulder,

"This scar," he started.

"It's a burn," Hermione told him.

"It's warm." Draco stated, "warmer than the rest of you."

Hermione grinned, "It's a _dragon_ burn."

"How?" Draco asked, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Come on, you must have heard the story of how we broke out of Gringotts on the back of a dragon?" she told him.

"Of course," he said, "but I wasn't sure it was entirely true. I mean, how the hell did you break in there in the first place? It supposed to be impossible."

Hermione shrugged, "It was difficult, and we wouldn't have had a chance without a goblin on our side. But we had to, so we did." She said simply.

"Why?" Draco pressed.

Hermione sighed, "You're not going to let it drop are you?"

Draco shook his head, "Not until I get the full story, no."

Hermione thought for a moment, then began, "Do you remember me telling you that while she was torturing me, Bellatrix inadvertently gave me significant information?"

"Yes," Draco whispered, as his arms tightened around Hermione, as if to try and protect her from the memory of that night.

Hermione smiled slightly, and continued, "She was terrified that we had been in her vault; terrified we had taken something else – she kept screaming 'what else did you take?' There is only one person who could strike fear in that woman, to that degree. Voldemort had something hidden in the Lestrange vault, and naturally we were curious." Hermione shrugged.

"Curious?" Draco repeated, shaking his head, "Curiosity killed the cat, you ever heard that saying?"

"Of course, but despite how stupid and dangerous this was, we had to do it." Hermione reiterated, "We planned it thoroughly, like I said we had a Goblin on board, and Griphook was a huge help – despite the fact he tried to kill us at the end. When we had our strength back, we hit. There was only enough Polyjuice left for one use, so Harry and Griphook went under the invisibility cloak, we used a series of glamour charms on Ron, and I had the honour of taking the potion. We needed a Lestrange to enter the vault, and Bellatrix was rather…" she thought for a moment, "enthusiastic about her torture, I was covered in her hair."

"You actually became her?" Draco asked, sounding shocked, and Hermione looked up at him in confusion, "After everything she did to you? She tortured you to within an inch of your sanity: How did you even have the strength to do that?" He asked, awed.

Hermione smiled sadly, "She tortured me to within an inch of my _life_." She admitted, "I could feel myself slipping, but I survived because I knew I had to. And I found the strength to become her, because I had to." She simply, "No one else was going to do it, no one else knew what needed to be done. It was up to us, and we did it, despite the fact that, like our plans, it started going wrong from the start. We didn't even make it into the bank before we hit a hitch," Hermione laughed.

"But you succeeded? You broke into my aunt's vault and got what you wanted?" Draco clarified.

"Yep, and escaped on a dragon." Hermione grinned, "Obviously, the Goblins aren't too happy with us – we did the impossible and they are never going to forgive us, I know that much."

"I'm curious," Draco asked, looking down at Hermione with a smirk, "Have you returned to Gringotts since?"

Hermione grimaced, "Yes. It was awful," She laughed, "I honestly thought they were going to try and kill me." Hermione sighed, and then seemed to realise just what she had been saying.

"I can't believe you've got another story out of me," she said shaking her head, "I have told you way too much, you can never repeat a word."

"Fine," Draco agreed, "But doesn't it bother you that no one knows just how much you went through? I mean, you truly are an amazing witch, to go through all that and still be so strong and confident, and not crazy – it's incredible."

Hermione smiled at the compliment, only barely registering how strange it was that these things were being said to her by Draco Malfoy: the boy who had continually called her a mudblood throughout their entire schooling.

"Hermione?"

The pair in the bed froze as Harry's voice drifted through the door, accompanied by a knock, "Are you in there?"

"Yeah," Hermione said automatically, "What's wrong?"

"You came up to put Teddy down over an hour ago. It's nearly midnight, people are wondering where you are." Her called back.

"I'll be down, give me five minutes." Hermione called back. She waited to hear Harry's footsteps walking away, but heard nothing. Instead Harry's voice travelled through the door again:

"Also: Malfoy, your mother is looking for you." He stated, and then Hermione heard his footsteps retreat.

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_**A/N: So, there you have it. I'll get to work on the next chapter later this evening, hopefully I will be able to update quicker this time.**_

_**Thanks for reading, please review - good or bad, I would love to hear your opinions :)**_

_**xBx**_


	23. Chapter 23: New Year, New Start

_**A/N: It's finally here - so sorry about the delay, I've had an idea for another fic brewing in my head that I had to get down (the plot outline is now written down, but I wont be doing anything with it until this is finished)**_

_**Thank you to everyone who read and special thank you to all my reviewers...you guys are giving my the biggest ego ever! I love it! lol I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations.**_

_**Quick note - I know the rating has now changed to M because of the last chapter, but this chapter doesn't have any M-rated content. :)**_

_**xBx**_

* * *

**~ Chapter 23: New Year, New Start ~**

Hermione sat up, looked at Draco and laughed, as the full ramifications of the situation finally hit her: She was in bed – naked – with Draco Malfoy, the covers twisted around them, and Harry knew they were both in there. Chances are he also knew what they had been doing – he wasn't stupid, or naïve, after all.

"This is going to be interesting," Draco drawled with a smirk.

"Any regrets?" Hermione asked, looking to get the worst over with, but relief flooded through her when Draco shook his head.

"None what so ever. I've done too many things in the past that I regret bitterly every single day," he told her honestly, "I swore, after the war ended, I would never do anything else that I would later come to regret, and I intend to stick by that."

Hermione smiled, and then looked out at the room, "We should get dressed, go back downstairs and face the music." Her smile faded slightly, she was happy to avoid Harry for considerably longer, but she knew that was not an option.

"Are _you_ having regrets?" Draco asked shrewdly, noticing Hermione's change in demeanour. Hermione smiled back at him and shook her head.

"No," she told him, "I just really don't want to deal with Harry and his questions in a room full of Weasleys." She said, and Draco chuckled.

"I'm sure Potter won't say a word until you're alone, by which time I will have left, and the questions won't bother me." He smirked, and Hermione scowled.

"Charming," She said, leaving the bed and beginning to dress. She could hear Draco moving around behind her, as he did the same.

Looking relatively unruffled, the pair made their way down into the dining room five minutes later, where Hermione immediately met Harry's eyes. He was giving her a look that suggested he was torn between amusement and disapproval at what he had put an end to. But Hermione was happy to note that Harry seemed to have kept his mouth shut about what he had stumbled upon when he came to her room, as no one else seemed to be paying Hermione and Draco any attention as they rejoined the party.

No one. Except Molly Weasley, whom they immediately ran into as they made their way further into the room.

"Where have you two been?" She asked them, in that voice of hers that usually made her children quiver.

Hermione, who had been silently thinking of an alibi, answered immediately, "I went to put Teddy down, and then we met in the hallway," she told truthfully, and then proceeded to her cover story. "We went to the library, we were discussing our charms paper, and I know Harry has some interesting books that were useful when I wrote it." Hermione declared calmly, and Draco had to admit, he was impressed at at her cool.

Without missing a beat, he corroborated her story, "That's right. The paper is on the theory of wandless magic – we were making sure our papers were on the right track." Draco said.

Molly gave them both a shrewd look, as if trying to gauge a lie, but they must have passed, as she didn't question their story, instead she asked: "Was my daughter with you? She's been gone about as long as you two."

"Of course she was," Hermione lied immediately, to save her friend from her mother's wrath, adding for good measure, "As was Blaise – we often discuss our homework as a group at Hogwarts. We got so caught up we didn't realise we'd disappeared for so long. Ginny was just putting some books back, she shouldn't be too far behind us." She assured Molly, hoping Ginny would indeed appear soon.

The Gods seemed to be on their side, as no sooner were the words out of Hermione's mouth, than Ginny and Blaise re-entered the room.

"There you are, we thought you'd got lost: the Library's not that far away." Draco summoned them over, "Did you get all the books back in the right place?" he asked pointedly.

"What?" Blaise asked, looking confused.

"I was just telling your mother, Ginny, where we were while we discussed our assignment. She noticed we'd been gone a long time." Hermione said with a smile.

Ginny picked up the alibi immediately, and smiled at her mother, "Right, I didn't realise we'd been so long. But you know what Hermione can get like when it comes to school work." Ginny said nonchalantly.

"And this charms assignment was a real bitch." Draco added, letting Ginny know the topic they had supposedly discussed. "Sorry," he said as an afterthought, toward Molly, apologising for his language.

"That's why we ended up in there so long," Ginny grabbed at the information Draco had handed her, "We were thinking it might be wise to put theory into practice before we return, try and get a bit of a head start."

Blaise was watching the exchange in awe – though his face was a calm mask, as if this information wasn't new to him and merely bored him. He was impressed with the two Gryffindors, lying through their teeth in the face of Mrs Weasley without giving away any hint of doubt at their story. He realised that these women could be formidable if they chose to be, and that thought unnerved him slightly – what was he getting himself into?

Molly nodded at her daughter, and then seeming to accept their story, turned her eyes upon Blaise. She gave the young man a hard look and a somewhat cold smile, "So," she declared, "You're my daughter's newest boyfriend, are you?"

A glint of panic flashed in Blaise's eyes for a moment, before he composed his face into a warm smile, "Yes, Mrs Weasley. It's lovely to officially meet you at last." He said.

Hermione quickly excused herself, mumbling something about a drink, and disappeared: as much as she wanted to witness this introduction, she would much rather observe from afar so she wouldn't get caught up in Molly's disapproval. Draco had similar ideas, and likewise excused himself, after giving his friend a pat on the back, wishing him "Good Luck" with a grin.

As Hermione watched from the drinks table, Draco at her side, she saw Blaise slowly become more flustered as every minute another Weasley joined them until the entire family surrounded him.

"This is priceless," Hermione commented, and Draco chuckled.

"I confess," The blonde said, with a smirk, "I don't think I've ever seen him this uncomfortable."

"Not surprising: He's dating a Weasley, and they come as package deal." Hermione said, "You mess with one, you mess with the whole lot. It's a scary thought."

"Is that what it was like for Potter, when he dated Weaselette?" Draco asked, "And for you, as well, when you and the Weasel were an item?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I wish you would stop calling him 'Weasel'. And No, it wasn't. For starters, Ron and I have never been 'an item'. We're friends, nothing more. And anyway, Harry and I have always been part of the extended family: Molly's adopted kids, if you will." She explained, "So we were accepted from the start, regardless of our relationships with her offspring."

"So, you and Potter were like family?" Draco clarified. And Hermione nodded, "Adoptive children?"

"Yes," Hermione said slowly, "What are you getting at?"

"Mrs Weasley views Potter as another Son: that would make his relationship with Ginny a little bit inces-" Draco began to explain, but was cut off before he could complete his sentence.

"What is the matter with you?!" Hermione said, smacking his arm, and shaking her head, while Draco simply laughed.

A moment later, Ginny managed to extricate herself and Blaise from the rest of the Weasleys and made their way over to Hermione and Draco.

"You're welcome." Hermione smiled at the couple as they approached.

"For what?" Blaise said, looking slightly paler than usual, "tossing me in the lion's den?"

Hermione gave him a scathing look, "For covering for you." She said.

"Right," Ginny said, a sly grin forming, "About that: why were _all four_ of us in the Library? Do I take it that we weren't the only two to disappear?"

Hermione avoided the question by noticing Harry wandering around the crowd, "Look, Harry's handing round the champagne, must be nearly midnight. Let's go get a glass." She smiled and led over to the piano, where Harry was currently standing with Narcissa and Andromeda.

"There you are Draco!" Narcissa exclaimed, "We were beginning to think you had run out on us – you disappeared ages ago."

"We were in the Library." Blaise sniggered, causing Hermione to turn her head slowly to look at him with a less than amused expression and eyebrows raised. Something in her look must have appeared threatening to the Italian, as Blaise stopped his snigger instantly, and even took a sidestep closer to Ginny, muttering: 'Sorry.'

Draco sniggered at his friend, as Harry gave Hermione a look that only she could read.

"Really?" Harry said, "The Library." He repeated, and Hermione turned to look back at him, this time narrowing her eyes.

"Okay!" Harry said quickly, raising his hands, "Sorry I spoke."

Ginny was smirking as the other two women were looking in smiling bafflement at these two fully grown men – both of whom were a head taller than Hermione – cowering at a simple look.

"Ok, I have to ask." Draco said, voicing what everyone was thinking, "How is it you can do that with simply a look?"

Hermione turned her head toward Draco, answering him with the look she had given to Blaise.

"Yeah, that's not going to work on me, darling." Draco drawled with a smirk, crossing his arms casually, clearly not intimidated. So Hermione narrowed her eyes, glaring the way she had at Harry, at which Draco's smirk widened.

"Seriously, Granger." He said, "It's not going to work on me. You're not as intimidating as you think."

Hermione cocked her head to the side, surveying him thoughtfully, and Draco shifted uncomfortably, not used to people looking at him like that. Hermione's lips twitched, and an evil smile began to form.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Draco asked, clearly becoming unnerved, "What are you thinking? You're thinking something, and I don't think I'm going to like it. What are you planning?" He asked again, clearly uncomfortable with the look he was being given. He had managed to piss her off and now he was going to pay, and Draco didn't like that one bit: the wrath of Hermione Granger was legendary, and he didn't want to suffer it, not again – no doubt her left hook had increased in power considerably since third year.

"I'm sorry, I take it back," He blurted out. "You are intimidating in your own way."

And with that simple apology Hermione chuckled and turned her attention back to Harry, who was handing her a glass of champagne.

"You have to teach me how to do that," Narcissa said to Hermione with a smile, and Hermione grinned.

"It's easy, all you need is to find the right look for the right person, and the apologies just come flowing out."

Draco scowled as he realised he'd fallen into her trap, but Harry jumped in before another word could be said.

"Moving on, it's nearly midnight," Harry declared, as he silenced the music from the other room, and everyone began to gather closer.

It was one minute to midnight, and when the second hand of the large carriage clock sat on the mantle piece reached the number ten, everyone began to count down. When the clock chimed twelve, George let off a spectacular display of his own indoor fireworks to the chorus of "Happy New Year!"

As everyone began exchanging hugs and chaste kisses – or in the case of Ginny and Blaise, not so chaste kisses – Hermione found herself sandwiched between Harry and Ron, all with big grins on their faces.

When Ron went to do his rounds with his family, Hermione looked up at Harry who still had his arm around her shoulder.

"Did you ever think we'd make it this far?" She asked him quietly, with a smile, "That we'd be here, to see this New Year?"

Harry chuckled and looked down at Hermione, "Honestly? I didn't think we'd make it to _last_ New Year, considering what happened last Christmas."

Hermione laughed, and leaned her head into Harry's shoulder, "I know. But we did, and here we are: All grown up and happy, who would have thought?"

Harry nodded, "Who indeed. But it won't be long before we're not."

Hermione frowned, "Happy?" She asked.

"Grown up." Harry said with a grin, "In about half an hour, most of the Ministry reps will take their leave, as will the Weasleys. By 1am only us Howartians will be left, and there is a lot of alcohol left. It's going to get rowdy, I'm sure."

Hermione laughed, "I suppose we are only young once." She said.

"By the way," Harry said, "Rumour has it you're quite the pianist." Hermione scowled, knowing full well what was coming next.

Harry ginned, and steered Hermione around to sit her at the piano, "I think you should give us a song." He told her, lifting the lid.

Hermione sighed, "Fine," she said, "You're lucky I'm feeling generous, and since it's New Years,"

Hermione started to play and, praying that others would join in once they knew what she was playing, began to sing;

"_Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne_"

Hermione had sung this every year, growing up, while her mother played, so she knew the entire song from start to finish. And by the time she had reached the second chorus, the entire party had joined in, singing the lyrics they knew and mumbling through the lyrics they didn't.

When she had finished playing, she quickly vacated the seat to avoid requests to play again – she really didn't feel like spending the rest of night providing the musical entertainment.

Just as Harry predicted, the party began to dissipate half an hour later, and by one-thirty, only those under the age of twenty remained.

"Finally!" Ginny exclaimed, when her family had departed after warning her to behave and not be too late home. "Now the parents have gone, it's tequila time!"

She grabbed the bottle from the sideboard and tossed the bag of limes at Hermione, "Line 'em up," she called, picking up the salt and making her way to the group now gathered around the coffee table in the drawing room.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "You are way too enthusiastic about these, Ginny." She mumbled as she conjured twelve shot glasses, for everyone present, and began to cut the limes into segments.

"Alright people," Hermione said, as Ginny poured the shots, "Lick it, slam it, suck it." She declared, to which the boys sniggered.

"Seriously? What are you all? Twelve?" She said with her signature eye-roll. As tequila slammers happened to be a muggle thing, and relatively unknown in the wizarding world, it fell to Hermione, Dudley and Beth to show them how it was done. Hermione was surprised therefore, when Emmy leaned forward and grabbed the saltshaker:

"Follow our lead." She commanded, licking her hand before pouring on some salt. As she reached for a shot she noticed Hermione's questioning look and smiled,

"I'm actually a half-blood," Emmy confessed, "Muggle mother. For my eighteenth she took me out in Muggle London and introduced me to some interesting Muggle drinking customs. Present case included."

After a few rounds of slammers, and a series of fantastic facial expressions, the group returned to their original drinks and generic discussions.

"Hey, does anyone know any really good drinking games?" Seamus asked, suddenly, and Hermione groaned.

"No, no drinking games, please." Hermione said, "It's a dangerous slippery slope: people always end up saying things they wish they hadn't, dark secrets are revealed and at least one person ends up naked."

"What kind of drinking games do you play, Granger?" Blaise asked with a sly grin, and a couple of people laughed.

"Yeah," Draco joined in, "I have say, if that's what you people get up to, I should have stayed at your party longer." He joked. "Though I couldn't imagine your family having any dark secrets."

"You'd be surprised," Hermione smirked, "we look respectable on the outside, but the Rosebys have some scandalous skeletons in their extensive closets."

"Roseby?" Beth said thoughtfully, looking at Hermione, "Hermione Roseby-Granger." She said slowly. Suddenly her eyes widened, "Oh my God, I know who you are!" she exclaimed,

"You do?" Hermione questioned apprehensively, suddenly feeling nervous at where this was going. Beth nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, you're the high-society heiress who's rumoured to be dating Richard Alden. You know," She added to Dudley, "The millionaire who owns that up-scale cocktail bar in York, is it true he's just bought a property in the Hamptons?" Beth asked, turning back to Hermione, who was trying to ignore the stares of all her companions, most of whom were looking at her with shocked wonder.

"I know he was thinking of it, though only the Gods know why. He'll fit in there worse than he fits in at my mother's soirées." Hermione answered with a shake of her head. "I told him purchasing that property would be a bad idea, so he most likely has bought it. And how do you know all this?" Hermione asked, suddenly realising that this woman she had never met knew far too much information.

"He's almost always in a magazine, he's a bit of a socialite since he opened that bar: it's _the _place to be in York, attracts a lot of celebrities and socialites. Mostly he's in _Hello_ magazine, or _OK,_ or something like that." Beth said.

"Interesting," Hermione said thoughtfully, "He likes his publicity," she smiled, but there was a glint in her eye that Draco picked up.

"You're plotting something," Draco accused. Hermione pulled herself back to the present, erasing the scheming glint.

"Me? Plotting?" She said, "Never."

"You're an heiress?" Ron asked incredulously, completely ignoring the small exchange between Hermione and Draco.

"Bet you wish you made a move, now, don't you Weasley?" Blaise joked.

"Nice," Hermione frowned, at the same time Ron said: "Too right."

"Ron!" Hermione said, shocked. But Ron grinned.

"I'm kidding, 'Mione." He soothed.

"So,_ are_ you dating this rich guy?" Dean asked, "Or not? And how come you never told us you were loaded?" He asked, as everyone nodded all wanting to hear the truth of this juicy new information.

Hermione sighed, she had kept it secret for so long, but the truth would never stayed buried forever. "Richard and I _used_ to date. But that was a while ago, we're just good friends. And I am heiress to my Parents' business – it doesn't necessarily follow that I'm loaded." She said, trying to play down her worth as much as possible.

"They currently have three dental surgeries in London, Leeds and York." She explained, and when people looked set to question her further she added: "Question time is over, let's crank up the music." Hermione said, putting an end to further discussion of her Muggle life.

Thankfully for her, Harry and Ginny recognised the tone of finality in her voice, and with the help of Blaise and Draco steered the conversation down a musical turn, and soon the group were arguing over the best songs to really get the party going. The argument could only be settled by playing the songs in turn, and the group listened to everything from ABBA to Queen, from The Weird Sisters to Bon Jovi, and before long everyone was dancing, their dignity long forgotten.

When Hermione woke the next morning, it was to the delicious smell of a cooked breakfast. She groaned as she rolled herself out of bed, slipping her feet into her slippers and pulling on a robe. It was only eight-thirty in the morning: far too early to be up, but she had to be at home before lunch, as her parents would be home at some point in the afternoon, and she still had to tidy their office.

When she entered the kitchen she couldn't help put laugh at the sight that greeted her: Harry and Ron were barely awake, both looking rather pale, their hair in complete disarray as if it hadn't been brushed in weeks.

"Feeling delicate, are we?" Hermione asked, as she took a seat.

"Are you not hung over?" Harry croaked, his head in his hands, looking at Hermione through his fingers. Ron simply groaned in response, not bothering to lift his head from the table, and Hermione was pretty sure he was almost asleep.

"Not really," Hermione admitted, "I didn't drink as much as you guys. I was pretty much sober right up until the damn tequila shots." Ron groaned again: at about 2am he had instigated another round of slammers – apparently he was regretting that now.

"Really," Harry commented dryly, "So you were sober for your little trip to the _Library_?" He asked, pointedly, "Seriously, Hermione? That's your idea of taking it slow?"

Hermione looked unsure what to say, and then she remembered the events that led her to escape in the first place. "It was your fault," She hissed at him, just as Ron gave a snore, "you told me to make that stupid phone call."

Harry looked at her incredulously, "I'm sorry, I'm failing to see the link here. How do you get 'go have sex with Draco Malfoy' from 'call Richard and apologise'?" He hissed back, praying Ron was actually asleep.

"I didn't. I called Richard and his other woman answered the phone. It pissed me off, so I went to calm down. Malfoy followed and… calmed me down." She finished with a smirk. "Very effectively, if you must know."

"Too much information, I feel sick as it is." Harry mumbled as Kreacher began placing breakfast in front of them.

"Are you not working today?" Hermione asked, changing the subject and digging into her breakfast.

"This afternoon," Harry said, before gingerly taking a bite of his own food. "Though I don't know how much use Ron's going to be."

"Plenty of water, and some food and he'll be fine." Hermione waved her hand, dismissing Harry's worry, "That's if you can ever wake him up." She added, and Harry sniggered.

"Best leave him there for another half hour." He joked.

As Hermione was the only one not hampered by a hangover, she was the only one to assist Kreacher in clearing up the extravagant mess from the night before. When the Dining room and drawing room were back to their original condition, Hermione apparated home to tidy the mess she had left the night before. Placing back the volumes she no longer needed, she gathered the rest of the books and took them to her sitting room, where she continued to peruse them until her parents returned a little after five o'clock.

###

When Draco finally woke it was close to two in the afternoon. He groaned as he rolled out of bed: his stomach was churning and it felt like there was a tiny man in his head with a very large sledge-hammer, pounding every inch on his brain it could reach. He had over indulged slightly last night, and he was now pretty sure that inviting Blaise back to the Manor for a 'night cap', and consequently getting through two more bottles of Firewhiskey, was a big mistake. He didn't even remember what they had talked about, but he did remember smoking his Father's cigars – it was incredibly lucky his father would be in Azkaban for a few more years, if he was here Draco would probably be murdered for that little stunt.

When Draco finally made it down to the afternoon sitting room, he found his mother sat in a window seat with a book and a cup of tea, a weak winter sun spilling across her lap.

"Ah, Draco," she smiled, "So good of you to join us. How are you feeling?" she smirked.

"I'm, a little delicate," Draco admitted, "But I'm fine." He assured her, helping himself to a steaming mug of coffee.

"What time did you make it back?" Narcissa asked, still smirking, as if she knew something he didn't. This worried Draco, what the hell did he do when he got home?

"About three, I think? Blaise came back with me, and we had a couple more drinks." He admitted.

"Yes," Narcissa nodded, "It would appear neither yourself, nor Master Zabini, are particularly good at billiards when you are intoxicated." She smiled, a small laugh escaping, "The billiard rooms was quite a sight this morning, balls everywhere. Only the cue ball made it into a pocket."

Draco groaned, "I'm sorry, Mother." He said, sitting in front of the fire.

Narcissa chuckled, "It doesn't bother me, my darling. I only wish I had been awake to witness the feat, no doubt it would have made an excellent spectacle. What exactly were you drinking last night, after your Aunt and I left?" She asked.

"We were introduced to some interesting Muggle concoctions, including Tequila slammers and flaming Sambucas." Draco said, "That, coupled with the experience of bohemian Rhapsody leads me to believe that Muggles are in fact an entirely different race to us." He commented dryly.

"Bohemian Rhapsody?" Narcissa questioned.

Draco shook his head, "Don't go there. It's a song, and apparently every Muggle knows it. At one point they looked like they were having some sort of seizure, but apparently they were just dancing." He mumbled, sipping his coffee and starting to feel a little bit human again.

Narcissa laughed, "I fear I left too soon, sounds like it was quite a party." She was quiet for a moment, looking at her son thoughtfully.

"You and Miss Granger appear to be awfully close." She said quietly.

Draco scoffed, "_Awfully_?" He repeated, "Is that the key word Mother? Are you about to lecture me on Blood status? I thought we were trying to move past that."

"That was a bad choice of word, forgive me." Narcissa said, slightly pained, "And of course I'm not going to give you lecture on blood status, that means nothing to me. But I hope this isn't your way of trying to prove that point. Don't attach this young woman simply to prove that blood status doesn't matter to a Malfoy anymore. Hermione Granger has been through hell because of her blood status, the last thing she needs is her heart broken because of it."

Draco looked at his Mother incredulously, "You don't think I know that, Mother?" he whispered, "We have a daily reminder of it just down the hall. And I'm not using her to promote myself. I'm not trying to attach her to prove anything." He said, "I care about her, the last thing I want to do is hurt her. Anymore than our family already has." He added quietly.

Draco looked up to see his mother smiling smugly and he frowned, "You tricked me into talking about feelings by making me defensive." He accused.

"I did." Narcissa admitted. "I'm a master at manipulating conversations. I knew you wouldn't tell me any other way."

"That's evil." Draco accused.

"No it was necessary." Narcissa said, "For what it's worth, I don't disapprove of her."

Draco looked at her mother shrewdly, "You don't _disapprove_," he repeated, "It doesn't mean you approve."

"I don't know her." Narcissa said simply, "Not properly. Not yet at any rate," she smiled, and Draco had a shrewd suspicion she was planning something but he refrained from asking.

"Did Blaise make it home alright? Or did he spend the night?" Narcissa asked.

Draco looked up, with a slightly guilty expression, "I have no idea." He confessed, "I don't even remember playing billiards."

###

As Hermione would be returning to Hogwarts on the fifth, the rest of her break was rather uneventful: she spent one more day in the company of Andie and Teddy, strategically avoiding all discussion of Draco as she really didn't know what her feelings fully were towards him, or what exactly was going on between them – the situation was incredibly complicated, considering she was currently trying to get out of an arranged engagement, something she was reluctant to mention to anyone else.

Thankfully, Richard was busy with business and Hermione didn't get to see him until the Sunday morning. Her parents had left on Friday to go to a conference in Ireland, and Hermione was just closing her case when there was a knock at her sitting room door.

"Come in," she called out, resigned. She had been lucky enough to avoid this meeting so far, but apparently her luck wouldn't hold out to allow her to avoid it all together.

She left her suitcase on the bed, quickly put on the ridiculous ring, and walked out into her sitting room, meeting Richard half way.

"I wondered if I'd be seeing you, before I left." Hermione smiled, but the smile was colder than usual.

"I couldn't let my fiancé leave without saying goodbye," Richard smiled, "I won't see you until Easter. You are coming back down at Easter, aren't you?" He asked.

"Perhaps, most likely. At least you remember I'm supposed to be your fiancé, today." She said coldly, and Richard frowned.

"What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean? How could I possibly forget that _you_ are my fiancé?" He snarled, loosing his temper quickly. Hermione quirked an eyebrow, but otherwise her facial expression remained calmly neutral.

"I'm not even going to ask what you meant by that," she said calmly, "But I believe you forgot about me rather quickly on New Years Eve."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Richard said quickly. He shifted uncomfortably, giving away his attempt at a lie.

Hermione smiled, "Oh, you do." She said, "You are a terrible liar. I called you, and imagine my surprise when Melissa answered the phone." Hermione continued to smile sweetly, and was happy to see that Richard was growing increasingly uncomfortable.

"You're mad, I get it." He said hurriedly, "I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad." Hermione said simply, the smile never leaving her face.

"You're not?" Richard asked slowly, not daring to believe his ears.

"No." Hermione shook her head, her calm smile never slipping, not giving him a hint that she was thinking: _I'm furious, and seeking revenge._ Instead, she said, "But I am going to be running late if I don't leave soon, so it would be best if you left." She told him, walking over to the door and opening it for him.

Just as Richard reached the doorway he stopped. "I_ am_ sorry," He said again, "These holidays haven't been brilliant for us. I want to start again, A clean slate, I will make this up to you."

Hermione nodded, "If you say so." She said simply, "Just one more thing. Do you recall what I said to you New Years Eve?" She asked.

"Vaguely." Richards scowled – clearly he remembered it vividly.

"Good." Hermione said simply, giving nothing else away. "I guess I will see you in April. I need to get my things together, you can see yourself out." She said, shutting her door in Richard's face, before returning to her room. She looked at the clock on her bedside table: it was 11:30am. She had chosen to return to Hogwarts from Grimmauld Place, via the Floo, but the connection to the Headmistress' office would not be open until 3pm and the last thing Hermione wanted to be doing was sitting around twiddling her thumbs, simply waiting.

She gave a deep sigh, glanced around her room clicking her tongue, and made a split decision. Pulling on her coat, scarf and gloves, she grabbed her case and disapparated, appearing a moment later in Hogsmeade. She bewitched her case to make it feel feather light, and proceeded down the main street: instead of sitting at home waiting, she may as well take advantage of being of age and pick up a few bits she wanted from Scrivenshafts, before returning to the castle early.

She hit a bit of a snag when she got to the gates, which were chained and magically sealed, but after sending a patronus ahead to Professor McGonagall, apologising for her unconventional means of return, she finally made it to her tower, which felt more like home than the place she had just left.

She unpacked her things, hanging her clothes back in her closet, putting her completed homework assignments with the rest of her schoolbooks and placing the business ledgers, accounts books and client lists she got from her father the other day onto her coffee table, thinking of taking a look at them later on.

But first, she intended to take advantage of the empty tower and relieve the lingering tension in her body through the means of a hot bubble bath. When the bath was drawn, she tossed aside her clothes and grabbed a towel and the book her father had persuaded her to read before Christmas, intending to spend a good few hours simply relaxing and reading.

Within half an hour, Hermione felt her own stress leave her, as she lost herself in her book – her father had been right to recommend it, it truly was a gripping piece, full of knights and renegades, and Kings and Queens, though it was not the stuff of fairy tales, this was far more deadly, full of dark plots and treacherous twists. She was almost at the end, part way through a chapter on her favourite character of a young girl, born and raised a high lady but who was rather wild and unruly, when the opening of the bathroom door distracted her.

Hermione looked up from her book, to see Draco enter wearing nothing but a towel around his waist – he was completely oblivious to her presence and jumped a mile when she spoke.

"You really should check the bathroom is empty before you enter." She smirked, "At least you're wearing a towel." She pointed out as Draco spun around to look at her.

"Sweet Merlin! You nearly gave me a heart attack! What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I'm taking a bath." She said, stating the obvious and earning herself an eye roll, before returning her attention to her book.

"I can see that, I meant why are you here early? I thought I was one of the first to arrive." He pressed.

"Long story." She mumbled.

Draco was silent for a moment, "What are you wearing?" He asked suddenly, not sounding pleased.

Hermione scowled, "I'm in the bath. I don't know about you, but I tend to bathe naked. Now be quiet, please, I'm reaching a pinicle part of the story here – her father is about to be shown mercy, but I don't trust it. I'll feel a lot better when it's given." She said.

Draco could make neither head nor tail of this remark: "What-?" he started, but Hermione shushed him, fully intent on her book. Draco watched impatiently, his arms crossed, as Hermione's eyes widened and her mouth opened in shock.

"They can't" she breathed, her eyes moving down the page rapidly, "oh my god! They did!" she squeaked.

"Something wrong?" Draco drawled, not used to being ignored in favour of a book. Hermione looked up at him with a tortured look on her face.

"The killed him, actually killed him. He's the moral centre of the entire story and there are more books. What's going to happen without the moral centre?"

"Their world will immorally fall apart." Draco said quickly, "Now can you please answer my quest-" he stopped, "Are you crying?" he asked incredulously, noticing the wetness in Hermione's eyes.

"No," She scowled, but the quaver in her voice gave her away and Draco chuckled,

"Go to hell!" she snapped, "What question am I supposed to be answering?"

"Right," Draco said, sobering up instantly, "What's that you're wearing?"

"Again, I'm in the bath" Hermione pointed out, but before she could continue, Draco walked over to her and grabbed her left hand, holding it in front of her face so that her palm was facing outward,

"Ahh," Hermione said, now understanding what he meant, "That would be my engagement ring."

"Exactly. Why are you wearing it?" He asked.

"The engagement hasn't been properly dissolved yet. Richard called in to say goodbye, I had to wear it in front of him, but I forgot to take it off." She explained.

"You forgot?" Draco repeated, full of scepticism.

"Yes, I got distracted by the book – it's really very gripping, you should read it." She said.

"Right," Draco said, pulling the ring from her finger, "You need to get rid of this," He said, taking the ring and walking toward her room.

"Hey- what the-" Hermione sputtered: what the hell was she supposed to do? She was laying naked in a bubble bath, she couldn't exactly jump up right away and follow. When Draco was safely in her room out of sight, she grabbed the towel beside her and quickly jumped from the tub, leaving her book abandoned on the floor.

Wrapping the cotton towel tight around her, she hurried into her room, not bothering to dry herself, "I swear to the Gods, if you toss that ring over the balcony, I'm throwing you over after it, to get it back!" She threatened.

Draco chuckled from where he was standing by her dresser, "Relax," he said, picking up a ring box, "I'm putting it back in it's box, that's all."

Hermione scowled, "I was relaxed, and now you've stressed me out within five minutes."

"Sorry about that," He grinned sidestepping her, and returning to the bathroom. "I hope you get over it by the time I'm finished in the bathroom."

"Wait! _I'm_ not finished in the bathroom!" Hermione said.

Draco stepped back into the bathroom, and turned to face Hermione in her doorway, "But you're out of the bath and back in your room," he pointed out, "Looks to me like you're finished." He said closing the door with a smirk.

Hermione stared at the solid wood for moment, spluttering in shock, before her face darkened, "You know, I have a lot of pent up rage! Richard pissed me off plenty these holidays, but because of a stupid law I couldn't hex him! You, on the hand, you I can hex!" She threatened: she was starting to wonder if New Years had all just been a dream.

"Good luck with that," Draco called back, and Hermione heard the laughter in his voice.

"Can at least have my book back?" She whined, accepting defeat.

"Nope." Draco said simply – he knew he would pay for this dearly when he finally emerged, but he couldn't resist winding her up.

"You are such an arse!" she yelled at him, stomping her foot. She was dearly thankful that there was a door between them as soon as she realised what she had done. She didn't mean to stamp her foot like a child having a tantrum, but he just brought out the worst in her.

She whirled away from the door and went to get dressed. The Hogwarts Express would be pulling into the station soon, which would mean that Ginny and the others would be arriving at dinner shortly. Since she had been unceremoniously tricked out of her bath, Hermione might as well go down to the Great Hall early, and wait for Ginny there.

* * *

**_A/N: There you have it. A little bit of a filler chapter, just to try and move the timeline along and get us back to Hogwarts._**

**_Let me know what you thought, I'll try and get the next chapter up by the end of week._**

**_xBx_**


	24. Chapter 24: Almost back to Normality

_**A/N: Managed to update quicker than before, yay! A bit of an averaged sized chapter, hope you like it. Oh, and there's nothing M rated in this chapter - it's a safe one :)**_

_**Thank you to everyone who reviewed - you guys are amazing! And Happy Easter! :)**_

_**xBx**_

* * *

**~ Chapter 24: Almost back to Normality ~**

The crowd in the Great Hall slowly swelled around her, and when Ginny joined her at the Gryffindor table, Hermione was already halfway though her dinner. Before Hermione could form a greeting, they were joined by Neville, Dean and Parvati, who spewed out the greetings Hermione was about to say herself.

"How come you weren't on the train, Hermione?" Parvati asked, taking a seat next to Ginny.

"I opted to floo back." Hermione explained, "How was your holiday?"

"Wonderful. We spent the time with out grandmother, in India. I'm kind of disappointed we missed Harry's party though, from what these guys were saying it sounds like it was great fun. But it was nice to see the family again. How was yours, Lady heiress?" Parvati ginned.

Hermione groaned, "It's that story spreading already?"

Parvati giggled, "You should now by now, gossip spreads quicker than fiendfyre here. Especially when it concerns any member of the Golden Trio." She said with a smirk.

"My holiday was fine." Hermione said, ignoring that particular comment and answering Parvati's question. "Lots of essay writing, and getting to grips with the family business. Harry's party was kind of awesome though." She admitted, "It's a shame you couldn't be there, but no doubt he'll throw another party before the year's out. Maybe we could do something for Graduation?" Hermione suggested.

"Speaking of New Years," Ginny piped up, as Parvati became engrossed in conversation with Dean, "I didn't get to hear the gossip." She said with a grin, piling food onto her plate. "I want to hear all about your 'library' session'."

At that moment, Hermione noticed Draco enter the hall and make his way to the Slytherin table. She scowled at his figure, as she answered Ginny, "Not at the dinner table."

Ginny frowned as she took in Hermione's scowl, and followed the direction of her glare, "I don't get it? Didn't you two…you know?"

"Yeah, so?" Hermione said, spearing a piece of beef rather harshly with her fork.

"So, why are you glaring at him? I thought you were getting on? Are you together? What's happened?" Ginny asked.

"He kicked me out of my bath and stole my book." Hermione said. Ginny was silent for a good minute or so, trying to make sense of this comment.

"I'm sorry, what?" She asked, then shook her head, "Actually, you know what, I don't want to know about your kinky games."

Hermione laughed, and elbowed Ginny, "Nothing kinky." She reprimanded, "It's a long story. It's weird, we've seen each other all of five minutes since we got back, and it's like we're right back to how we was before – as if New Years never happened. But at the same time, it's different, like were more comfortable with each other. I don't know." Hermione finished lamely.

"Ask him." Ginny said.

"Yeah, that's going to go well: Hey, we slept together and I'm eng- " Hermione stopped herself, she was on the verge of saying _I'm engaged to another man, but what's going on with us?_

"Erm, I mean," she tried to recover, "oh, I don't know what I mean. It's complicated." She finished, as the golden plates in front of her cleared, and desserts now filled the table. She immediately helped herself to a large portion of chocolate fudge cake – chocolate always made her feel better.

Toward the end of dessert, Luna wandered over, in her usually dreamy state, and squeezed into the bench beside Hermione.

After the usual exchanges of standard greetings, Hermione asked: "Where were you for the holidays? We missed you at New Years, it wasn't the same without you." She said, in all honesty.

"Thank you," Luna said, "That was a nice thing to say. I find you're nicer after the war, you snap less. Or is that the effect that Draco Malfoy is having on you?"

Hermione had no idea what to say: once again Luna showed her talent of speaking uncomfortable truths and ridiculous notions all in one. Ginny was absolutely no help as she was laughing into her pudding at that moment.

"What did you do over the holidays, Luna?" Hermione asked again, deciding simply to ignore the previous comments.

"Daddy and I went to Greenland to investigate the Crumple-Horned Snorkack sightings." She said with a smile.

"How did that go?" Hermione asked, trying to refrain from rolling her eyes. She had grown to truly love Luna as one of her closest friends, but sometimes the girl was simply incorrigible.

"Well and not well." She stated. "We didn't see a Snorkack. But we did find this in native Mistletoe plants." She pulled out a glass jar and placed it on the table in front of them.

Inside was a wispy-looking fairy-like creature. It looked to be made of a similar substance to a ghost, only more substantial and the colour of its matter shifted in the light, so that one moment it was blue, another it was red.

Hermione leaned in to get a closer look, "What is it?" she asked, intrigued, but her voice sounded distant to herself, and soon she began to lose all train of thought, becoming entirely transfixed at the strange new creature in front of her.

Luna grabbed the jar, and returned it carefully into her robe pocket. Once the creature was out of sight, the fuzziness in Hermione's head seemed to dissipate; the glazed look left her eyes. She shook her head a blinked, "What _was_ that?" She asked again.

"A Nargle." Luna declared dreamily, and Hermione thought she detected a hint of smugness.

"Well, I'll be damned." Hermione breathed, "Truly?"

Luna nodded, "We found a whole colony, Daddy took pictures, would you like to see them?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded, "I actually would." Luna smiled her dreamy smile, and pulled a stack of photographs from another pocket and handed them over.

"Luna, this is an incredible find," Hermione commended her as she leafed through the pictures, some of which displayed more Nargles than she could count. "Have you been to the ministry yet? You need to document this, this is the discovery of a new species, and no one truly believed they existed. This is monumental. You need to send an owl, right away." Hermione continued to babble on, and Luna let her talk, smiling serenely, and Hermione wasn't entirely sure she was listening.

###

After Draco had showered, and dressed to go down to the Great Hall for dinner, he reluctantly emerged from his room – Hermione's book in hand – and prepared himself to feel her wrath. Perhaps pushing her was the wrong thing to do, but he wasn't thinking entirely straight when he had made that particular decision. There she was, standing in front of him, dripping wet, and wearing nothing but the smallest of towels. Quite frankly, she had never looked more enticing, he had never wanted her more, and as a result he was incapable of forming a single coherent thought. So instead of making a fool out himself, and launching himself at her there and then, he decided to escape her and simultaneously piss her off – not the smartest of decisions in retrospect, but he hadn't been in his right mind.

He had no idea what was going on between them: they hadn't spoken since New Years, and she had been incredibly angry that night. It was entirely plausible that Hermione had been guided by anger and retaliation, as opposed to feelings and lust, and Draco wasn't quite ready to deal with that possibility yet.

Luck was on his side, however, as the tower appeared to be empty. Draco didn't plan on sitting at the Slytherin table alone, and as the train would not be getting into the station for another fifteen minutes at least, he decided to relax in front of the fire for at least half an hour. Curiosity getting the better of him, he decided to take Hermione up on her advice, and picking up her book he began to read. She was right, it was rather gripping – so gripping, that he ended up being late for dinner.

When he made it to the hall, the room was full and noisy, he made his way hastily to the Slytherin table and took a seat between Blaise and Theo.

"We wondered where you'd got to!" Theo hailed, as Draco took his seat, "Blaise was just telling me about Potter's party. I can't believe these words are about to escape me, but it sounds like it was a good night."

"Yeah, it was pretty good." Draco said, piling food on his plate.

"What kept you?" Blaise asked, "We got back twenty minutes ago."

"I was reading." Draco said simply, loading his fork with roast beef.

"You've been spending too much time with Granger, mate." Theo joked. Draco gave him a dark look, but didn't say anything. Theo took the hint, at least, and turned his attention to Blaise.

"So, how are things between you and the she-Weasley?" Theo asked the Italian.

Blaise grinned, "Oh they're good." He said pointedly, "Very good."

Draco tuned out the conversation going on around him. When dinner was cleared and dessert appeared in its place, his eyes wandered the hall, coming to rest on the Gryffindor table, more particularly, on the brunette who looked to be over indulging in chocolate judging by the huge slice of cake on her plate. He knew from experience that women tended to use chocolate as comfort food - was she unhappy? She didn't seem too unhappy, she was joining in with the conversations around her, smiling at her friends – _but_, Draco thought, _she's from a society similar to mine: we're always happy on the outside. Inside is a different place._

He was rudely brought back to the Slytherin table by a stinging slap to the back of his head.

"What was that for?" Draco demanded roughly.

"You were staring." Theo told him, "Get a grip. Next thing you know, people will be saying how you're in love." He joked.

Draco rolled his eyes – not realising that he was emulating his fellow head almost to perfection.

"Don't be ridiculous." Draco drawled, "Everybody knows that Malfoys are incapable of such emotion." He intended it to be a flippant and sarcastic response, but instead he found his voice was edged with bitterness – that was, after all, what everybody thought of him and his family, though it was completely unjust. He shoved his plate away from him, suddenly losing his appetite, and pushed himself back from the table.

"I'm going to head back to the tower, anyone care to join me?" He offered half-heartedly.

"Not me," Theo sighed, "Got that potions essay to finish."

"I'll come with you," Blaise said, "I said I'd meet Ginny there."

Draco rolled his eyes again; of course _his_ tower was being used by his friend to hook up with a Gryffindor.

"So, what's happening with you and Granger now?" Blaise asked as they walked the empty hallways, "I have a feeling we had this conversation over cigars at New Years, but I'm struggling to remember the finer points."

"Do you remember billiards?" Draco asked with a chuckle, avoiding the question.

"Nope." Blaise said, "Do you?"

"No," Draco laughed again, "But according to my mother, we suck. She saw the aftermath, and only the cue ball found its way into a pocket."

"Where were the rest?" Blaise asked warily,

"The floor, chair, shelf. Everywhere but the table basically." Draco said, and Blaise laughed.

"I blame the shots. Muggles are crazy when it comes to alcohol." Blaise said grinning, as they approached the painting.

"So do I," Draco muttered before giving the password. When they entered the tower, Draco went strait to the seat he had left before dinner, picking up the book on the coffee table.

"You still haven't answered my question," Blaise said, taking a seat opposite. "Are you for real?" He asked abruptly, taking in Draco, "The first thing you do is open a bloody book, when I want information. What has Granger turned you into?"

"It's a very good book." Draco defended, just as the portrait opened and the two Gryffindors entered.

Hermione was babbling enthusiastically about something, but when she saw Draco – or more precisely, what Draco was reading – she stopped.

"Are you kidding me?" She almost shouted, "You're reading my book?"

"It's a very good book, apparently." Blaise answered dryly.

"It is," Draco nodded at Blaise "You should read it. Borrow it after me if you like."

"Hang on!" Hermione said, "First you're reading my book without my permission, now your passing it out to others? Would you at least do me the courtesy of letting me finish the damn thing first?"

"Shhh." Was Draco's only response.

"Did you just shush me? Unbelievable." Hermione said, gearing up to rant but Draco cut her off.

"Just let me finish this chapter, at least, it's getting interesting. This kid is eavesdropping, and he's hearing things he shouldn't. The plot is thickening."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Preaching to the choir, I've read it remember? Well, most of it." She grumbled.

Draco ignored her and returned to his – no _her_ – book. Blaise and Ginny exchanged a look behind Hermione.

"Okay." Ginny said, "We're going to go for a walk, leave you two to your weird little lover's drama you got going on."

When Blaise and Ginny departed, Hermione fell into a chair, "Can I please have my book back." She tried again.

"In a minute," he said again, "Gods, woman, let me finish the chapter. Here, while you wait you can open your package." He summoned a parcel from the study table, landing it expertly in Hermione's lap.

"Who's it from?" She asked curiously.

"My mother." Draco said, not lifting his eyes from the page.

Hermione stared, "Your mother?" she repeated.

Draco sighed, "Yes. My mother." He repeated, "Seriously, let me read."

Hermione couldn't help but grin a little at his exasperation, but she refrained from outright laughter and turned her attention to the parcel in her lap. Untying the string, she unwrapped four books: the top one was her own copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ with a letter resting on top.

Before investigating the other books in the parcel, Hermione unfolded the letter, and silently read, wondering what on earth Narcissa Malfoy had to say to her.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_ Thank you so much for your generosity of allowing me to borrow your original copy of _The Tales…_ Such a unique item, and I have thoroughly enjoyed examining it. Enclosed in this parcel you will also have found an additional three books. Draco told me you had expressed an interest in the journals of the Grimm brothers, and as a thank you for your kindness, I have you sent you the three Journals to peruse at your leisure. I hope you find them as enjoyable as I did._

_I'm sorry I never got to speak to you properly at New Years, but the little we did talk I enjoyed. I feel I owe you a thousand apologies for the way my family and I have treated you in the past. I know you and I vary rarely came in contact, but I do remember a chance meeting in Madam Malkins, where I was incredibly rude and abusive to you. I offer you my sincerest apologies for the words I spoke, and I have no excuse to give except that, due to the choices I made earlier in life, I then had a part I needed to play to keep my family safe. I hope in time you will be able to forgive me, and that we might one day become close acquaintances, at the very least._

_I will send this package with Draco, when he returns to School, hopefully he will give this to you not long after your arrival – though knowing my son, you could very well be reading this in March. _

_Narcissa Malfoy._

Hermione folded the letter back up, not really sure how to feel about receiving an incredibly friendly note from Mrs Malfoy, and placed it on the coffee table before turning her attention to the leather bound journals in her lap.

She gingerly opened the cover of the top-most book, excitement causing her hands to tremble ever so slightly. The journals, however, proved an instant disappointment, and Hermione kicked herself for not thinking of this little snag before hand. Of course the entire thing was written in German, and while she had a very basic understanding of the language, she was going to need a dictionary to fully translate the writings.

"Son of a bitch!" Draco exclaimed, suddenly, causing Hermione to jump. She looked up at him with a frown, and he explained his expletive: "The kid just got thrown from the window. This book is brutal!" He exclaimed.

"Ahh," Hermione said in understanding, "Now you've finished the chapter, can I have it back? I want to finish it before I go to sleep."

"Are the journals not enticing enough for you?" He mocked with a grin, but he held out her book al the same.

"I'm not fluent in German, and I'm too tired to translate now." Hermione said, rising from her seat and taking her book in her spare hand.

Hermione hesitated a moment, wanting to say something but unsure what. What happened between them at New Years was an elephant in the room, but she didn't know how to bring it up. On second thoughts, _why_ did she want to bring it up? What was she supposed to say? In the end, she simply said "Goodnight," before disappearing up her staircase.

###

The first week back was remarkably uneventful, except of course for Luna's amazing discovery, which spread like fiendfyre through the school. At every chance she got, Hermione was perusing the papers she had brought from home and by the end of week she finally felt like she was making some headway. Having got all her homework out the way during the week, Hermione spent most of Sunday in her sitting room, strategically placing a plethora of coloured pins into a map of England. At around seven that evening, there was a knock on her door.

"Come in," she called distractedly, placing another pin in the map. She heard the door open, and lifted her head to see Draco saunter in.

"Blaise and Weaselette are downstairs and it is sickening to be around." He declared, "Stop being so bloody anti-social and get downstairs."

"Give me a minute," Hermione said, still bent over the map.

Draco stepped further into the room to get a better look at what had her so preoccupied, "What are you doing?" he asked.

Hermione looked up with a grin, "The three stickers are the locations of the practices, and the little pins represent the clients. All colour coordinated, as you can see: red for London, blue for York, and green for Leeds. The darker coloured pins represent the regular clients, who come to us for their routine check-ups every six months, for fillings and polishing and general dentistry. The lighter pins are the clients that come to us for the more high end cosmetic treatments, like veneers, gum lifts, bite reclamation." Hermione explained.

"I'm going to stop you there," Draco said, "I didn't understand a word of that."

Hermione laughed, "Doesn't matter, you don't need to. All you need to know is that the dark pins are regulars; the pale pins are rare, more expensive, procedures that you want done right. I've only gone through half the client lists for each clinic, but you can already see the pattern emerging."

Draco looked at the map and nodded his head in understanding. The darker pins were clustered around the same colour sticker, but the paler pins stretched out further a field. "For the more costly one-offs, people are willing to travel further." Draco said.

"Exactly. But they will still be getting their regular treatments at their local dentist. Now, what we need to do is expand the business, to increase our income. To do that we need to open two, maybe three, more practices. If someone is willing to travel from Coventry all the way down to London to see us, it's likely they'll travel a shorter distance more regularly, thus giving us more custom." Hermione explained her theory,

"If I can pick the right locations, we could potentially turn our one-off clients into regulars, which will provide us with a more steady income. On top of that, we should be able to increase our client numbers from the nearby cities, that some people might think are too far from the current clinics to justify travelling at the moment. There's a lot distance between London and Leeds," she said, looking at the map, "If we were to open in Nottingham, for example, we could gain clients from as far out as Stoke, Leicester, maybe even Coventry. We already have a few from Coventry who made the trek to London, and Nottingham is definitely closer. I just have to work out the numbers." Hermione finished.

"Where would you open a second?" Draco asked, scanning the map, "You have the south and the Midlands pretty well canvassed – if you open in Nottingham – but North is looking pretty empty of pins."

Hermione smiled and pointed, "Newcastle." She said simply. "There is the possibility of branching further, and going over into Scotland. But that's a whole other conversation. For now I'm going to focus on those two places. Like I said, I just need to figure out the numbers." She finished, glancing over to where the business ledgers sat on her coffee table.

Draco noticed the furtive look and grabbed her arm, "No. That can wait. You've done enough today, now you can get down them stairs and put a stop to the over the top PDA's going on between our friends."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I'm sure it's not that bad." Hermione scoffed over her shoulder, as she headed downstairs.

"Oh, seriously?!" Hermione shouted out when she reached the bottom of the staircase. "Do you have to do that here?"

Ginny looked over her shoulder and grinned sheepishly, "The room was empty." She defended. She was currently straddling Blaise in one of the seats by the fire, a moment before their lips had appeared glued to one another's.

"Well, the tower is not. Why do you have to do that here?" Hermione asked.

"Neutral ground." Blaise said, as Ginny finally removed herself from his lap, "Where else are we supposed to go? We can't go to each other's common room."

"Why don't you try the Room of Requirement?" Hermione suggested, walking over to the writing table by the window, "I have some letters to write, and I would rather not witness you two going at it like rabbits."

"Does the Room of Requirement even work anymore, after you burnt it down?" Ginny asked, ignoring the last part of Hermione's speech.

"Firstly, _I_ didn't burn it down – Crabbe cast the fiendfyre, not me. And Secondly, why don't you go find out? There's a chance the magic will still work, after all it was the room of hidden things we destroyed, maybe the damage is limited to that room only." Hermione suggested.

"It's possible," Ginny conceded, "But surely you don't want rid of us that badly? Come on 'Mione, I've hardly seen you all weekend." Ginny moaned, following Hermione over to the writing table, and sitting down by the window.

Draco took a seat on the couch, at the end nearest to Blaise's chair, and with the girls out of earshot, Blaise looked at Draco significantly.

"So," Blaise started quietly, "What's the go?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked wearily, not sure he wanted to engage in a conversation about feelings – that was just too girly for a Sunday evening.

"I now remember a fair amount of what we talked about while attempting to play billiards," Blaise told him, "So I remember you telling me what happened at Potter's house with Granger. So, what's happening with you now? Are you two a couple or…?" Blaise trailed off.

"It's complicated." Draco said.

"You haven't spoken to her properly since have you?" Blaise stated, shaking his head. "What's wrong with you, Drake? Usually you have no problem talking to women: you've managed to break the heart of every Slytherin girl in our year, and a good few in the year below. How come you've suddenly lost your words?"

Draco scowled at his friends, "Like I said, the situation is complicated."

Blaise waited for a moment, "That's it, that's all I get?"

"I'm not going use lines on her that I used on women I messed with the past couple of years: I told them what they wanted to hear, not what I wanted to say. I won't do that to Granger." Draco said reluctantly.

Blaise grinned, "This is whole new territory for you, isn't it?" He said, still grinning, and leaning back into the chair.

In that moment, Draco truly envied his best friend: he had conquered that great divide. He was a Slytherin openly dating a Gryffindor; sure, they had got their fair share of whispers and stares in the beginning, but eventually people had got over their shock and Blaise and Ginny were happy. It was so un-complicated for them. There was no 'other person' forced into the equation, which they had to get rid of.

"Have you spoken to her at all?" Blaise pressed on, when Draco didn't respond.

"Of course," Draco answered, not looking his friend in the eye.

"About what happened over the holidays." Blaise pressed again, beginning to lose his patience, "Look, I get that 'it's complicated' as you keep telling me. And I figure there's something else that you two know, but no one else does, so I'm not going to pry into what that is. But if you don't do something soon, you're going to be miserable – more miserable than you appear to be at present. You made a great leap forward at New Years. Don't screw it up now by taking a million steps back."

"It's hard to talk to someone who doesn't want to talk back." Draco snapped.

"Then make her." Blaise stated, but didn't press the matter as Ginny left her place at Hermione's side, and made her way back to Blaise.

###

"What's going on?" Ginny asked, pulling her seat closer to the writing table as she sat down.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked pulling a sheaf of parchment in front of her, and loading her quill with ink.

"You've been quite quiet since we got back. Something's wrong, I can tell." Ginny stated quietly.

Hermione glance up at the boys, who were now involved in their own conversation and completely oblivious to what the girls were talking about.

"I haven't been quiet, I've been busy." Hermione said, "Studies are cranking up a lot, I'm applying for a place in the Ministry, which involves a lot of paperwork. I'm also learning about my parents' business as one day I'm going to own it, so I need to know everything I possibly can about it. On top of that I have Head Girl duties, though at the minute, it's pretty quiet on that front as the next thing that concerns us is the first Hogsmeade trip of the term, which isn't until February, so I can't really complain." Hermione shrugged, "I'm just tired."

"Hermione, it's week one." Ginny pointed out, "If you're already like this, you're going to burn yourself out, something's got to give." She said, giving Hermione a shrewd look, "Unless of course, all that is just a front: you can in fact handle all that going on, but you're hiding something else. Something that is stressing you out more than all those factors combined. Something like feelings, for example. You haven't spoken to him properly yet, have you?" Ginny accused.

Hermione was silent for a minute or so, simply looking at Ginny with an impassive face. "Sometimes I hate you, do you know that?" She said simply and Ginny laughed.

"Only because I'm so perceptive, and it freaks you out." Ginny grinned, "So, are you going to talk about it?"

"It's complicated." Hermione said simply, turning her attention back to her letter writing.

"It always is." Ginny grumbled, "Fine, if you're not going to talk to me about it, I can't force you. But for Godric's sake, you better get over yourself and talk to _him_ about it soon, before it's too late for the both of you. So, who are you writing to?" Ginny asked, respecting her friend's boundaries, and changing the subject.

"Harry first. Then I have to write to Beth – you know," She added, sensing Ginny's frown. "Who we met at Harry's, his cousin's girlfriend. I'm also writing to Nick, the head of the 'creature department."

"You're on first name basis?" Ginny asked with raised eyebrows an a grin, "That was quick."

"I would quite like a job there, it doesn't hurt to be friendly." Hermione grinned. "And then," she said more slowly, deliberating, "I have to answer a note, and send a thank you of my own, to Mrs Malfoy." She said, staring intently at her parchment, not wanting to look Ginny in the eye.

Ginny was silent for a moment, "I'm sorry," she said finally, "But I thought you just said you were responding to a letter from Mrs Malfoy."

"I did." Hermione said, signing the parchment and moving it to the side to dry, before pulling a fresh sheaf of parchment in front of her.

"You did," Ginny repeated, and Hermione looked up in resignation.

"Say whatever you want to say," Hermione sighed.

Ginny gave a half-hearted shrug, and she was clearly trying to stop herself from laughing, "You and Malfoy have … well, you have something going on, though no one but you guys seem to know what it is, because 'it's complicated'. And now you're corresponding with his mother. It's a very daughter-in-law thing to do. There I said it." Ginny held up her hands, and let out a small chuckle.

Hermione didn't know what to say, so simply looked at Ginny with a pained expression, who just laughed.

"I'm going to go, leave you to your letter writing." Ginny said after a moment, "I'm going to take Blaise with me, and you are going to talk to Malfoy. You're all…angsty and…wallowing." Ginny said, "It's not you, and I don't like it. So change it."

"You're starting to sound like your mother, when you tell people what to do." Hermione frowned, thinking Ginny might take offence. But to her disappointment, Ginny just grinned.

"Good. Have you noticed how no one argues with my mother? Instead, they do what she says." Ginny gloated, before moving away towards Blaise.

Hermione bent over her parchment, starting on her second letter. A few moments later she heard the portrait open and close, and then there was silence except for the crackling of the fire. Despite the silence, Hermione could sense Draco's presence, though a good half hour passed before he spoke.

Hermione had finished her second letter, and was just making a start on the next, when Draco finally spoke.

"Your letters causing you trouble?" He asked, and Hermione looked up.

"Why would you assume that?" She queried, confused. She had, in fact, been struggling to find the right words to start with, on this particular one.

Draco shrugged, "You've been writing continually for the past hour, even when Weaselette was distracting you. But now you're frowning at your page."

Hermione smiled consciously, and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks.

"Whom are you writing to?" Draco asked.

"Well, I've written to Harry, and Beth. And now I'm writing to your mother." She told him.

"My mother?" Draco clarified, looking wary and confused, "Why?" he asked slowly.

"She wrote to me," Hermione said, "And it would only be right for me to reply, not to mention I should thank her for lending me the journals. Plus, if I don't reply soon, no doubt you'll get a note reprimanding you for not giving me the package – according to her note, she seems to think it was possible that it would be March by the time I got it."

"That's…erm," Draco seemed to be struggling to find the right words to say, "You're writing to my mother, that's weird."

"Tell me about it," Hermione agreed, "I never thought I'd ever exchange so much as a pleasant glance with her, not when less than a year ago I was in her house being-" She stopped suddenly, her eyes widening in horror at what she had been about to say.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said hurriedly. Draco's face was calm and serene, but a second before Hermione had seen the anguish flit momentarily in his eyes – he knew exactly what she was about to say. "I shouldn't have said that. That was thoughtless. I don't even know why I brought it up. I'm sorry." She said, hurriedly.

Draco shook his head, "Don't apologise. We're not going to forget about it any time soon, so there's no point pretending we have."

"I've offended you, upset you, I'm sorry. We're all trying to move on, but I'm not doing anyone any favours by dragging up the past." Hermione shook her head, and put her head in her hands. Why did she always have to put her foot in it?

"Granger, relax." Draco said, "It's fine." But he didn't sound like it was fine. His voice sounded strained, as though he was trying to hide his anger.

Hermione stood up, leaving her letters, she walked away from the table toward the fire, "I'm sorry," She said again, "I'm tired, I've so many things going around my head, I'm not paying attention to what's coming out of my mouth. I didn't mean to make you angry."

"I'm not angry." Draco said quickly, his tone of voice betraying his words, and Hermione gave him a sceptical look.

"Right, sure you're not." She challenged, "Malfoy, of course you're angry with me. I would be too, seeing as I can't stop bringing up things best forgotten." Hermione turned, as if to make her way upstairs, but stopped when Draco stood up.

"I'm not angry about that." Draco countered, "If anything, I'm frustrated because I feel we're walking on eggshells. You've hardly spoken to me since we returned."

"Because I don't know what to say to you." Hermione blurted out and before she knew it, the words were tumbling out of her mouth and she was powerless to stop: "Our situation is strange enough as it is: We've grown up hating each other, only to get to know each other and realise we don't hate each other at all. To find out, that we actually rather like each other. Add onto that this…chemistry that neither one of us can deny, especially when alcohol is involved. But what do we do next?" Hermione asked, "It's not exactly a simple situation."

"Why not?" Draco asked, and Hermione gave him an incredulous look.

"Because of Richard!" she stated, "The man I'm supposed to marry in June. Even though I can't stand him. So yes, I have hardly spoken to you. Not because I don't know what to say, but because I don't know if I can say what I want to say."

Hermione blinked, and silently cursed. For some reason her eyes were misting over, and a lump was forming in her throat – what was the matter with her? She didn't cry over trivial things such as these!

"What do you want to say?" Draco asked quietly, stepping toward her.

Hermione swallowed, "Things I shouldn't say while engaged to someone else." She said again, "But then again, it's already well established that I'm one hell of a hypocrite, so why should I stop now." She said, almost bitterly.

Draco frowned, "How are you a hypocrite?" He asked, and Hermione laughed.

"How am I not?" She asked, "I always shove the rules down peoples throat, tell them it's for their own good to toe the line. But from day one, I've flouted the rules, and broke them religiously every year. I fought against discrimination against blood-status in the wizarding world, yet I consider myself so much better than Richard, because my heritage – my blood – is better than his. And now, I tear Richard a new one for sleeping with another woman while he's supposed to be engaged to me, and here I am, doing the same! I slept with you, knowing I had condemned him for similar actions, only hours before. And now," Hermione threw her hands in the air, but didn't finish her sentence, she didn't know what she was wanting to, what she should say.

"And now, what?" Draco whispered, now standing right in front of her. He placed his hands on her arms, "Now, what?" He repeated.

Hermione shrugged, and shook her head slowly, "I don't know."

"Yes you do." Draco countered, "You do know, you just won't say. And you're not a hypocrite." Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Draco shook his head and spoke over her,

"You enforce the rules, because you know the rules are there to keep people safe. You tell people to follow the rules to keep them safe. Every rule you broke, you only did so to keep everyone safe because, for some unknown reason you and your boys knew more than the teachers, and if you didn't break the rules, chances were someone was going to suffer for it. Secondly, you were fighting against a pureblood supremacist, who wasn't even a pureblood, just a delusional psychopath. You were fighting against _persecution_ based on blood. You are better than Richard: you are a decent human being and he is a sleaze, who does not treat you with the respect you deserve. You have a title, he does not, and unfortunately, when you're in the upper class societies, titles, and old families matter more than new money. That's just the way it is, but you're not rounding up his kind and leading them to slaughter, you're just trying to get out of an arranged marriage." Draco said calmly.

He took a breath, and stepped in toward Hermione so that their bodies were almost touching and they could each feel the heat radiating of the other. "And I will tell you now, what I told you at New Years. Richard tells you he wants to marry you, that he wants to make it work, but then goes and shags that whore whom you call a friend. But you? You have never given him any false promises. You smile and play a part when you have to, but you never tell him a lie when it comes to wanting to marry him. Do you?" Draco asked, and Hermione shook her head.

Draco smiled, "You're trying desperately to get out of this arranged marriage. Why shouldn't you look for happiness elsewhere?"

Hermione didn't dare speak, her breathing increased, what exactly was he saying?

"You don't have to say the things you think you shouldn't say," Draco said to her, "Not if you don't want to. But for Salazar's sake, don't avoid me any more." He whispered feelingly, before finally pulling her to him and crushing his lips to her.

* * *

_**A/N: So, there it is. As always, let me know what you thought, good or bad, leave a review :)**_

_**Thanks again, to everyone who has read, reviewed, and to everyone who has added me to their alerts and favourites. You guys are all great :)**_

**_I'll get working on the next chapter asap, but once again I'm about to move to yet another state - I'm really turning into a nomad lol so the next couple of weeks are going to be a bit hectic, and packing boxes is about to take over my life. But I will try an get another chapter out before I move :)_**

**_xBx_**


	25. Chapter 25: Valentine's Distractions

**_A/N: Hello all! I managed to get an update out before I moved (Suffice to say, this fic has been an excellent procrastination tool against packing boxes.)_**

**_Thank you to all my wonderful reviews, you guys are great! Once again, there's no M-rated material in this chapter. But there is a little bit of fluffiness in there :)_**

_**One more thing before I let you read: Anyone listen to Molotov Jukebox? I've been listening to them as I've been writing this chapter. For those of you not familiar with the bad CHECK THEM OUT! They are my new obsession at the moment, and you should all recognise their leading lady, the wonderful Natalia Tena. ;)**_

_**Anyways, I'll let you read in peace, hope you enjoy!**_

_**xBx**_

* * *

**~ Chapter 25: Valentines Distractions ~**

A snowy January steadily passed into a dreary February, and the seventh year workload continued to increase. Hermione was finding it frustratingly difficult to come to grips with wandless magic, and while she was disappointed in herself for not mastering it quickly, like she did with everything else, it was a comfort to know that no one else in the class was mastering it either. Well, they weren't, until the most recent charms lesson, during which Draco had finally mastered a wandless locomotion charm, and had sent his inkwell across the desk, just as Professor Flitwick passed: he was commended for being he first to channel his magic wandlessly, but he was also berated for covering the tiny professor in emerald ink.

After their 'talk', at the end of their first week back, Hermione and Draco were no longer avoiding each other, though they were yet to define their relationship. Their friends were mystified, as the pair had obviously come to some form of understanding, but no one seemed to know just what that entailed. Both Hermione and Draco were reluctant to place a label on what they were to each other: during the evenings, when they were alone in their tower, they laughed and they talked, they enjoyed each other's company, and often spent the night together. Sometimes they would simply sit on the couch in silence, comfortably close to one another, both absorbed in their own reading, and just enjoying being close to someone. But in the back of both their minds was a reluctance to acknowledge their growing attachment to each other. Despite their best efforts, both were falling hard for the other, but they were both fully aware, that if Hermione's plans didn't come together, there was a strong possibility that she would be married to a Muggle in six months time.

It was the first week in February that Draco had mastered wandless magic; at the end of the day, after a hasty dinner, Hermione returned to the Head's Tower alone, to practice harder than she had before. Draco Malfoy was not going to beat her for long, she had to master it before next lesson.

"What are you doing?" Draco's voice broke through her concentration: she had been staring intently at her textbook, willing it to move, and hadn't heard him enter.

"How did you do it?" She said, finally looking up. She grinned a little when she took in his appearance. "Is it raining? You look a little wet."

Draco scowled: He had just come back from Quidditch training (one of the teams chasers had been in a bizarre potions accident and wouldn't be fit to play for another six weeks, Blaise had practically begged Draco to step up as a sub.) and he was drenched, his hair plastered to his forehead, droplets of water running down his nose and his robes were dripping a puddle around his feet; he looked as if he had been playing in the lake, not the sky.

"A little wet?" he repeated in a growl, and Hermione bit her lip hard, a small chuckle escaping. "I'll be lucky to dry out by August. I hate Blaise in this moment." Draco declared.

Hermione smiled sympathetically. "Go get changed into something dry, then come back and tell me how you did it."

"Did what?" He asked, without moving.

"Wandless magic." She said, returning her gaze to her textbook.

Draco grinned, "I knew that would get to you." He chuckled, before taking off upstairs to change.

Hermione went back to staring intently at her textbook, becoming increasingly aggravated when it remained perfectly stationary, as if the damn thing was stuck to the table with a permanent sticking charm. Suddenly she snapped, let out a scream of frustration and hurled the book across the room.

"That's cheating." Draco's scolded form behind her, "And no way to treat a book." He added.

Hermione sat back down at the large study table, her hands covering her face in frustration, "Why is this so hard!" She practically screamed through clenched teeth.

Draco sighed, and moved to stand behind placing his hands on her shoulders, he squeezed gently – he could feel the knots of tension hard under his hands.

"You're thinking about it too much," her told her gently, "you need to relax a bit more."

Hermione took a deep breath, "I'm too stressed to relax." She said in forced calm.

"I know you are," Draco muttered, as he massaged her shoulders. "Similar concepts apply to this as with Occlumency," he told her, "surely you practiced that?"

Hermione gave a derisive laugh, "I tried. But I never had someone teach me, so I'm not brilliant at that. I'm only slightly better than Harry, and he's bloody useless at it."

Draco chuckled, and took a seat next to Hermione so he could look at her. "You need to try and clear your mind – I know that will be hard for you, you're always thinking about ten things at once." He smirked, and Hermione glared at him. Draco continued without interruption, "Don't focus so much on the task you're trying to accomplish, instead, try and turn your focus inwards. Feel the magic coursing through you. Remember your first trip to Ollivanders." He told her suddenly, inspiration hitting him, "Think of the first time you held _your_ wand. What did you feel?"

Hermione thought back, "It felt warm." She said slowly, trying to remember, "I felt a tingling warmth spreading from the wand, into my fingers, spreading through me."

Draco nodded, "That was the magic in your veins that you felt, and it wasn't spreading form the wand into you. It was the other way around. You need to feel that feeling again – Here," He pushed another book towards her.

"Don't focus on a particular spell, try instead to rely on instinct. And don't ball your fists up, that will block your power." He told her. "Focus your energy inside yourself, close your eyes if that helps," he suggested. "When you _feel_ the magic, then you can try to channel it."

Hermione nodded, took a breath and closed her eyes. She focused on her pulse, the beat of her heart, and the more she focused the more she was aware of her blood pumping around her body. She flexed her fingers, hands hovering over the table, stopping herself from clenching her fists. She opened her eyes to look at the book in front of her; her first instinct was to read it. And just as she the thought flitted across her mind, the cover flipped open with a thump.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she looked up at Draco, "Did I do that?" she asked, and Draco grinned,

"You did that," He nodded.

Hermione let out an excited laugh, jumped from her seat gave Draco a quick but fierce kiss on the lips. "Thank you!" She said.

"Your welcome." Draco said amused, "Congratulations, you can do wandless magic. Can you stop stressing about it now?"

"I don't know. how easy will it be to do a second time?" She asked and Draco gave an exasperated sigh.

"Only the tiniest bit more easier than the first time." He admitted ruefully – she was never going to stop stressing about it.

"Well that sucks." Hermione said disappointed, "But I've done it once, so I can do it again."

"Don't do it now though, you'll exhaust yourself, and you have other work to do." Draco reminded her. "Any further with your business plans?"

Hermione nodded, "I have most of the costs tallied up. The only cost I don't have is pricing for premises – which is kind of important really, but I have no idea about current commercial property prices." She said, "But, I've written to Beth asking for her help: she's studying property development, and she's using this as a sort of study assignment I think. It helps us both out; she's going to search for properties based on the specifications I owled her. I can't do anything else until she gets back to me." Hermione finished with a sigh.

"How long will you have to wait?" Draco asked.

Hermione shrugged, "How long is a piece of string?" She retorted, "She'll get back to me when she finds something suitable. When she does, I'll know the price range I'll need to be dealing with. Once I know that, I'll know how much money I need to find."

"So," Draco grinned, "You've done all your homework, and nothing else to do…" He trailed off, suggestively.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow, then smirked, "You're right. I can have a relaxing evening. I think I'll take a long hot bath."

She stood up, and Draco made to follow, "That sounds like so much fun," he grinned.

Hermione turned, "I said _I_. Not _we._" She smiled, "You've been playing Quidditch all evening, you have homework to do."

Draco scowled, "You are a mean woman, Granger." He accused, but he couldn't deny the alarming amount of work piling up, thanks to Blaise making him train for hours at a time, days on end.

Hermione grinned, and sauntered off up her stairs, calling back over her shoulder: "I wouldn't be me if I wasn't. You know you wouldn't want me any other way." She said, before disappearing to her room.

Draco sat back down at the study table with a sigh, pulling his books toward. Damn the woman, she was right. She was always right.

###

Constant practise sessions paid off for the Slytherin team at the weekend, in their match against Ravenclaw. While the Ravens were strong competitors, the Slytherins were matching them goal for goal, thanks mainly to Draco who appeared to me a much better chaser than he had been a seeker.

Hermione cheered and clapped for every goal that was scored, from both teams, though her cheers were a little louder whenever Draco was the one to score. After his fifth goal, Ginny pointed it out.

"You're very open about your support for a certain person." Ginny said quietly, so only Hermione would hear.

"Not more so than you," Hermione countered, "I'm cheering for both teams. You're the one openly supporting Slytherin."

"My boyfriend is the team captain, it's expected of me." Ginny smirked, "What's your excuse?" She challenged. Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but no words came and Ginny laughed. "I thought you guys had talked," Ginny said, slightly exasperated.

"We did," Hermione answered, as half the crowd erupted in cheers as Ravenclaw scored yet another goal. "And we know where we stand. We're good." She added with a small smirk as she remembered the 'good' of last night.

Ginny gave a low, chuckle, "I bet you are," she said suggestively, with the kind of look Blaise would have given. Hermione laughed, elbowing Ginny in the side.

"Shut up," Hermione told the redhead, half-heartedly, and Ginny giggled more. "I'm happy, let's just leave it at that." Hermione finished.

"You are now. But wait until Ron finds out. I think he's totally in denial about your friendship as it is, so he didn't really pick up on the vibe at New Years." Ginny said, "He knows you and he will never get together, but still. I don't think he'll like seeing you with Malfoy." she warned.

Hermione shrugged, "I have bigger problems right now, I'll deal with Ron later." She said, before cheering as Draco scored a goal. The cheers and boos around the stadium quickly turned into a collective intake of breath, as a bludger bowled into Draco's abdomen, almost knocking him from his broom.

He looked winded, and in considerable pain, but he waved off the suggestion for a time-out, and continued playing. The match was over quickly after that; the score stood at seventy-sixty to Ravenclaw, when the Slytherin seeker snatched the snitch.

As the crowd dispersed, Hermione and Ginny made their way to the Head's Tower. As they sat down in front of the fire, mugs of tea in hand, Hermione asked suddenly, "Why is the symbol of Ravenclaw an eagle?"

Ginny looked at her strangely, "What?" She asked,

"Ravenclaw's badge, why is it an Eagle?" Hermione repeated, ignoring Ginny's strange look.

"I don't know, what else would you use?" She asked, wondering what the hell was going on in Hermione's mind.

Hermione looked at Ginny as if the answer was obvious, "I don't know," Hermione said, voice dripping in sarcasm, "A _Raven_?"

"Huh," Ginny said thoughtfully, "That would make more sense." She conceded, "In that case then, why is Gryffindor represented as a lion? Why not a Griffon?"

"Touche," Hermione conceded, "When you think of it, only the Slytherin snake really matches. But I suppose Hufflepuff, is the hardest. I mean what creature has Huffle or puff in it?" Hermione voiced.

Ginny thought for a moment, "There's Pygmy Puffs." She suggested.

Hermione snorted, spurting tea everywhere, and fell about laughing. Ginny joined in almost immediately, with the most unladylike snort, just as Draco and Blaise entered the room.

"What's the joke?" Blaise asked, looking at the pair who were on the verge of tears.

"Pygmy Puffs." Hermione managed to speak as she laughed, clutching her side.

"For Hufflepuff." Ginny tried to explained, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Are you drunk?" Draco asked, taking a seat and wincing in pain.

The laughter slowly died from Hermione, as she frowned, "I didn't think you'd be back so soon. I would have thought you would be celebrating with your team. Or visiting the hospital wing to get checked out." She said pointedly.

"I'm fine, just bruised." Draco said.

"You were hit with a bludger. You were lucky to even stay on your broom-" Draco shifted in his seat and winced again, a hiss of pain escaping him despite his best efforts. "You've probably got broken ribs." Hermione insisted.

Draco nodded, "Probably," he admitted, "But I can heal them myself." He said stubbornly, and Hermione knew there was no use in arguing with him when he got that look in his eye, so she picked up a book and remained resolutely silent until Ginny and Blaise left.

Once the portrait hole closed, Hermione closed her book and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a word, Draco stopped her.

"Save it." He snapped, "It's superficial, I can handle it. I don't need to be subjected to Pomfrey's mollycoddling when I've suffered far worse in the past."

Hermione snapped her mouth shut, and chewed her cheek, not sure what to say in response to that statement.

###

When Monday rolled around, Hermione was feeling better than she had in a long time. She wasn't sure why as there was still some level of uncertainty with regards to her being able to call off her engagement (she had received a note from Beth to say she had received the letter, and that she would gather as much information as possible, but Hermione was yet to receive the information.). but regardless of all this, there was a high level of optimism which Hermione hadn't experienced in a while.

Of course, this wasn't meant to last, and at lunchtime Hermione's happy little bubble was burst by quite possibly the most irritating prefect meeting she had conducted. They had gone over procedure for Saturday, which would be the first Hogsmeade trip of the year, and just when she thought she could call an end, a Hufflepuff spoke up.

"You haven't said anything about Friday." She pointed out.

Hermione looked at her blankly, "There's nothing happening Friday." She stated bluntly.

"But, it's Valentines Day." The Hufflepuff declared, sounding hurt the Hermione didn't realise that.

"Your point is?" Hermione asked, not liking where this was going.

"Well, we should do something." The Hufflepuff said, and to Hermione's dismay, every other girl in the room nodded enthusiastically.

Hermione looked to the ceiling, "Why Gods? Why?" She said quietly, before taking a calming breath and looking back at the prefects, "Seriously?" She asked, and when every girl nodded, she gave a sigh of defeat. "Fine, let me hear it."

Immediately the girl began to gush about anything and everything stereotypically associated with Valentines Day – everything from pink roses to live cupids. After about the twentieth time the word 'pink' had been spoken, Hermione held her hand up to stop the flow.

"Okay," Hermione said, after Draco had let out a groan beside her: it seemed it was too much for him also. "I think we've heard enough. You need to reign it in." She stated bluntly, "Firstly, way too much pink. We are not subjecting everyone to that amount of pink. And we are not doing anything that will interrupt lessons, any valentine's delivery you want to accomplish happens in the Great Hall only, at meal times. The only decorations will be in the Great Hall also, and not everything is going to be pink. I can get on board with the roses on the tables, but they will be the house colours, and white." Hermione said, before looking as if she was about to vomit on the next words she was about to say, "We can maybe change the colour of the candles to pink," she struggled out. "But I have no guarantee that McGonagall will allow this." Hermione warned.

"Oh, she won't disagree." Luna spoke up for the first time, in her dreamy voice, and everyone looked at her questioningly. "Don't you remember what she said, in the Hospital wing the night Dumbledore died?" She said directly to Hermione, "She said it to Lupin and Tonks, about Dumbledore being happy to think there was a little more love in this world. If we do it in Dumbledore's memory, she'll never say no."

"Fine," Hermione conceded with a groan: trust Luna to remember _that_, "I'll bring this to the headmistress later today, and I will get back to you tomorrow. But you guys are planning it." She told them, "I want nothing to do with it."

"Don't you like Valentine's Day?" A Gryffindor asked her.

"I hate it." Hermione answered shortly, "Meeting adjured." And with that, the prefects made their way out. As ever, Hermione and Draco were the last to leave.

"You really hate Valentine's Day?" Draco asked her.

"Yes," Hermione said, "Don't tell me you love it?" She smirked.

"Not at all, it's a ridiculous holiday. But I think you are the first girl I've come across who hate's it. Why?" He asked.

"It's the least romantic day of year." Hermione said simply.

"Not what I've heard." Draco commented dryly, and Hermione laughed. She turned in the corridor to lean against the wall as she tried to explain.

"For me, real romance is spontaneous, and thoughtful. The worst thing someone could do for me, is give me a large bouquet of red roses on Valentine's Day: it's a complete cliché. A spectacular bouquet is only made up of mediocre roses – no time or effort goes into picking them. But a single rose of a certain colour shows thought, and that's important. But these gestures on Valentine's Day fall flat, because at the end of the day, you're not doing it because you _want_ to, you're doing because it's Valentine's Day and tradition dictates you _have_ to. Turn up on my doorstep with a single rose on…July 23rd," Hermione threw out at random, "and it's far more romantic in my eyes."

"What's significant about July 23rd?" Draco frowned.

"Fuck all." Hermione declared bluntly, and Draco couldn't help but be a little taken aback at the language, "And that's the point: There is absolutely no reason for the gesture, which makes it romantic, because it's spontaneous. It's an act done of love, not duty." Hermione finished, pushing herself from the wall and continuing down the corridor. Draco followed her, but they made the rest of their way in silence.

As predicted by Luna, McGonagall gave her consent, though Hermione thought she detected a little reluctance and was sure it was only the too-jubilant exclamations coming from Professor Dumbledore's portrait that finally swung her decision. By the time Friday came around, Hermione felt close to indulging in some newfound homicidal tendencies: too many girls were giggling, and when she reached the great hall there were far too many rose petals on each table for her liking.

"Happy Valentine's Day," Parvati gushed as Hermione took her seat, making Hermione scowl.

"Happy is not the word for me. Enjoy it, just don't inflict it on me." She requested, helping herself to some toast.

"Hermione's not big on Valentine's Day," Ginny explained to their friends, just as the Owls swooped in with the morning post. "Though," she added, when a handful landed in front of Hermione, "someone doesn't appear to have received that message."

Hermione looked at the owls in front of her, that had just delivered a ridiculously flashy and expensive looking bouquet of roses. "Who are you looking for?" She asked, pulling the letter from one of the bird's legs.

She felt her blood start to boil when she saw it was addressed to her. Tearing open the envelope, she read a small note from her mother explaining that the roses were from Richard: he had called by yesterday and asked for them to be sent on.

Hermione took a calming breath, before pulling out a card from the ridiculous arrangement.

_For my favourite girl,_

_I miss you and I can't wait to see you again._

_Forever yours, Richard._

Hermione didn't think she was capable of reaching new levels of ire, but the moment she red the card a whole new level of wrath seemed to open up to her. _'My favourite girl'_ she read again: he didn't even personalise the damn card with her name, and she distinctly remembered Richard having _two_ favourite girls.

Suddenly the card in her hand exploded in a ball of flame. Hermione dropped the card onto her plate, where it curled up into itself until it was a small pile of ash.

"Woah," Ginny said, giving Hermione a wary look, "You just did wandless magic. Scary, wandless magic. Who sent the roses?" She asked,

"Doesn't matter, I think I'll burn them too." Hermione said.

"But they're so beautiful," Parvati said.

Hermione scoffed, "Here you are then," She said pulling out a single rose from the bunch, "Happy Valentine's Day: Have a mediocre rose." she said dryly, and Parvati looked confused while Ginny sniggered.

She stood from the table, "Help yourself to the flowers." She said before stalking out the hall, her appetite entirely gone.

Over at the Slytherin table, Draco had watched the entire scene. Only moment's before the post had arrived, Blaise had been giving him a rundown of his plans for a night up the Astronomy tower with Weaselette. When he had started to get into too much detail, Draco interrupted him.

"Blaise, I'm trying to eat breakfast, I don't want to know." He told his friend.

"Fine," Blaise conceded, "Have you got anything planned for a certain Gryffindor?" He asked the blonde slyly.

"Not a thing" Draco smirked.

Blaise frowned, "I thought you two were…" her trailed off, not really knowing what they were, but knowing they were something.

"She hates Valentine's Day." Draco shared, "And I agree with her. We will be doing absolutely nothing romantic."

Blaise looked at his friend shrewdly, "So you're going to show your love for her, by ignoring the romance of Valentine's Day?" He clarified.

"And thus give her the best Valentine's Day to remember." Draco nodded.

"You're going to be romantic by not being romantic." Blaise said.

"Precisely." Draco grinned, "It's alright. You can tell me I'm a genius."

Blaise snorted, as the owls entered the hall. He nudged Draco in the ribs, and pointed over to the Gryffindor table, "Looks like someone else is after her." he said with a grin.

"Well, they obviously don't know her: that is a terrible way to start, he's only going to piss her off." Draco smirked. "Told you so." He added a moment later when the Gryffindors around Hermione all gave a yelp of shock as the card in Hermione's hand burst into flame. Not long after, Hermione left the Great Hall, and Draco was quick to follow suit, swiping a couple of roses from the Hufflepuff table as he went by, remembering something his mother had said over the holidays. He caught up to her at the top of marble staircase.

"That was some impressive wandless magic." He commended her, causing her to stop and turn. He frowned when he saw her face: he was expecting to see anger still resonating in her features, but something else was there instead, something he couldn't quite place.

"I was angry, I let my temper get the better of me. That wasn't wandless magic, that was losing control." She admitted. "The roses were from Richard." She said, answering Draco's next question before he even asked it. "The card was directed to _his favourite girl_." These words came out through gritted teeth, and Draco understood immediately.

"He has two of those, if I remember correctly." Draco scowled. Hermione gave him a rueful smile.

"Exactly. Something tells me he ordered two of the same arrangements, with the same message – no awkward questions if they get mixed up." She said, before sighing loudly.

"Here," Draco said, as they continued toward Aritmancy, pulling out the two roses. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"What the hell?" She asked, not even finishing the question.

Draco shrugged, "Don't ask how I know this; just blame my Mother and her new obsession. But apparently a yellow and white rose given together are supposed to have something to do with happiness – don't read too much into this, by the way, I stole them from the Hufflepuff table." He told her, and Hermione gave a small chuckle.

"That's so un-romantic," Hermione told him as she took the roses, and Draco grinned.

"Good," he said, "Maybe they can help take you to your happy place, as you try and survive the day." Hermione gave another small chuckle, and Draco continued, "And if that doesn't work," he said, conjuring a poppy as a sudden inspiration hit him.

"A poppy?" Hermione asked, confused and taking the flower from him.

Draco nodded, a small grin forming, "It's a special type: produces extra concentrated amounts of opium. All you need to do is sniff it."

Hermione laughed out loud this time, genuine mirth replacing the discontented hurt and anger that had been there before. "Thank you," she said, "I think these will come in useful, by dinner time. I look forward to going to my opium induced happy place." Hermione said as the made it to their classroom.

Her first lessons weren't too bad: neither Professor Vector nor McGonagall showed any indication that it was Valentine's Day, and for that Hermione was grateful. Though she wasn't happy when she got to Transfiguration and Ginny insisted on putting the poppy in her hair (Hermione had refused point blank about the roses, but Ginny wasn't going to give in without some form of compromise.) and when she made it to potions, her day took a bit of a downturn.

She took her seat at the same bench as Draco, as had become her custom since the start of term, and began unpacking her books, cauldron and ingredients.

"Since today is Valentine's Day," Professor Slughorn announced, as the class settled around him, "I thought we'd have a little fun with it."

Hermione stifled her groan but she pulled out the poppy of her hair and gave it a sniff. She heard Draco chuckle beside here, and she looked at him with a small smile, "I may need a new poppy sooner than I thought." She whispered.

Draco didn't retort, as Professor Slughorn continued, "I want you to work in pairs and brew me something suitable: something that embodies the essence of the day." He clapped his hands together, "Come on then, get to work."

Hermione scowled as she leafed through her textbook, "This is ridiculous," she mumbled, as she turned the pages. A grin suddenly formed on her face as she reached a particular potion, she pushed the book under Draco's nose.

He looked at the potion and frowned, "It's not exactly the embodiment of Valentine's Day." He pointed out, repeating the professor's words.

Hermione continued to grin slyly, "It perfectly embodies _my_ idea of the day." She said, "My idea may not be the general consensus, but Slughorn never specified." She said.

"You would have made a good Slytherin." Draco told her with a grin, "I'll get the ingredients, you set up the cauldron." He said, and the pair set to work.

By the end of the double lesson, Hermione and Draco were happy with their perfect brew, and sat smiling smugly as Professor Slughorn made his way around the class, making comment on the others' concoctions. As ever, he saved Draco and Hermione to last.

"And what do my star students have for me?" He asked, looking far too happy as he peered into the depths of the cauldron. Hermione and Draco's smile widened in sync as the professor's smile was replaced with a frown.

"I'm confused," he said, "We're supposed to be brewing something appropriate for Valentine's Day. This is the Draught of Living Death, am I correct?" He asked, and Blaise let out a small snigger from the table behind.

"Yes," Hermione agreed, keeping her smile in place and trying desperately not to laugh, she could see Draco out of the corner of her eye doing the same. "This potion will allow be to sleep until this awful day is done, and I won't have to suffer the ridiculousness exhibited by almost everyone in the castle." Hermione declared, this time Blaise laughed loudly, and a few others sniggered at her explanation. Draco let out a very undignified snort in an attempt to control his burst of laughter.

"Right," Professor Slughorn said still looking confused before turning away with a shake of his head, "Excellent lesson, everyone. Flask your concoctions, label them, and put them on my desk. When you are tidied you may leave."

Lunch time was barely liveable; Valentine's Day cards were being hand delivered by the very same cupids that Lockheart had inflicted upon the school in his year here – but Hermione had been adamant that they could only deliver in the hall, during meal times. Hermione didn't make it through the entire lunch sitting; instead she wrapped some finger food in a napkin and sought refuge in the tower. By the end of the day, Hermione was over it: she didn't even bother to go to the Great Hall for dinner, but went straight to the tower and made a start on her homework.

She was halfway through her first essay when Draco came back, and joined her silently at the table, starting on his own homework. Hermione allowed herself a small smile: She hadn't lifted her head from her work, she didn't need to, they had reached that stage where they were comfortable simply being in each other's presence. Hermione let her thoughts wander as she continued to write, and she pondered just how comfortable she actually was around him. She could sit in silence with him, knowing he wouldn't be offended if she didn't speak to him for hours. She could walk around in her baggy sweatpants and a strap-top, without feeling self conscious that she might look a mess. He also seemed comfortable around her; she noticed he never played his piano in front of anyone, yet he had no problems with her sitting in his room as he played – he had even allowed her to play a few times as well. And he certainly wasn't bothered about being properly dressed around her – a few times he had simply wondered in and out of her room wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Hermione chewed her lip, remembering the vision, a small smile gracing her lips, completely unaware that Draco was watching her out of the corner of his eye. Hermione thought of the last time she had decided to walk around the tower in nothing but a towel: it transpired Draco had a serious lack of self control these days, as Hermione didn't end up wearing the towel for long. But she couldn't deny that what had followed had been incredibly good fun.

Hermione shook her head, trying to clear the inappropriate thoughts and concentrate on her homework. After another hour, Hermione sighed and put down her quill, looking at her watch. It was nearing six-thirty, and she was getting hungry. As if to emphasise this revelation, her stomach chose that moment to give a particularly loud growl.

Draco looked up and chuckled, "Someone sounds hungry." He said, and Hermione made a discontented face.

"You heard that?" She asked.

Draco nodded, "Dinner will be over now, but you might still catch dessert." He told her.

Hermione shook her head, "Not a chance in hell. I can't take another minute in that hall today." She said sounding disgruntled.

Draco smirked, "I figured as much." He said, tossing down his quill, and pushing himself from the table, "Go get changed into something comfy, I'll go down to the kitchens, see what I can get you."

Hermione shook her head, "You don't have to-" she started but Draco interrupted.

"It's fine. I'm bloody starving as well, and I don't much fancy the Great Hall either." He assured her, before disappearing out of the tower before Hermione could even begin to think of objecting. Hermione looked back at her homework, and shrugged. There really was very little left for her to do, so she decided to do what Draco had suggested, and went upstairs to change into a comfy pair of sweats, and a soft hoody.

When she came back down, Draco had just returned cradling a basket full of delicious leftovers. He put them down on the rug in front of the fire and Hermione wasted no time in joining him there, rolling up the sleeves of her jumper and tucking into the food.

After a few moments of silence Draco spoke with a frown, "That looks far too big for you," he commented.

Hermione grinned, hearing the question underneath his words, "It's Harry's," she told him. Draco frowned even more.

"Why are you wearing Potter's clothes?" He asked, not managing to keep a hint of Jealousy from colouring his tone.

Hermione laughed, "I started wearing it last year, when we were on the run." She explained, "During the winter months it got quite cold in the tent, I used to wear this over one of my own sweatshirts, and then I just never gave it back." She admitted with a laugh.

"Hmm," was Draco's only response, not trusting himself completely to speak. For some reason, the idea of her wearing another man's clothes did not sit well with him.

They continued to eat in silence, until eventually Hermione let out a long sigh.

"What's wrong?" Asked Draco.

"I should finish my essay," Hermione said half heartedly, and Draco could tell this was only half of what was bothering her.

"What's _really_ wrong?" He said, and Hermione gave him a sheepish grin.

"I'm still waiting for a response from Beth. I'm getting worried, I'm running out of time." Hermione admitted.

Draco nodded slowly, and then stood up, grabbed Hermione's hand to pull her up with him before dragging her to the couch. He sat them both down, so that she was leaning into him, his hand draped around her shoulders. He grabbed her book from the coffee table and put it in her hand.

"Beth will get back to you soon. And you are not running out of time." He told her calmly, "I have faith that you will figure this out. You've been too good a person in the past to warrant a miserable future. I'm not one for divination, but prophecies exist, and I have to believe fate plays some part in out lives." Draco said. "So," he said briskly, "Don't stress about it right now. No doubt Beth will get back to you next week, so enjoy this brief respite and just relax." He told her.

Hermione sighed, and adjusted herself into a comfier reclining position, still leaning into Draco, and opened her book. "Thank you," she said quietly, and in a surprisingly tender moment, Draco placed a kiss on the top of her head, before summoning a book of his own, and the pair spent the rest of the evening in perfect contentment.

* * *

**_A/N: So there you have it. Not a traditional take on Valentine's Day, I know. I confess, I have given Hermione my own personal views about Valantine's Day - I know lots of people love it, and that's great, but it's just not for me I'm afraid._**

**_Also, Hermione and Ginny's conversation about the House sigils - I don't know where that came from, it just entered my head one day, and I found the idea really funny, perhaps too funny lol_**

**_As ever, please review, I love to hear your views :)_**

**_xBx_**


	26. Chapter 26: Good News & Complications

_**A/N: Hello! I'm back, another chapter ready to go, finally. Thank you to all my readers for sticking with it so far. Thank you for all my reviews, you guys are great!**_

_**In the midst of all the unpacking, I managed to get a lot more written than I thought I would, I have the rest of the chapters all planned out, so I should hopefully be able to update fairly quick. However, it seems everytime I get toward the end of one story, I'm suddenly bombarded with so many ideas for the next one. But I'll keep Tainted as my priority until the end.**_

**_Hope you guys like the chapter...enjoy :) (Quick note, nothing particularly M-rated, but lots of implications, and a tiny little bit of smuttyness...if that's even a word? lol)_**

**_xBx_**

* * *

**~ Chapter 26: Good News & Complications ~**

Just as Draco had predicted, Beth returned Hermione's letter later that week; she had really outdone herself, and Hermione was thrilled at the size of the scroll that landed in front of her on Thursday morning, before she could begin to unroll the thick scroll of papers, another owl landed in front of her with a letter considerably smaller. The owls took flight in unison after Hermione relieved the second one of its letter, and a quick glance at the writing on the front told her immediately it was from Narcissa.

"Someone's popular today," Neville commented from across the table.

Hermione looked up and smiled, "Only two." She said simply, reaching for her goblet of orange juice.

"The first one looked pretty thick," Ginny commented from beside her, "and I've never seen parchment like that." She added.

Hermione chuckled: from the look of the tight roll of papers, Beth had done her research online and printed her findings off to send them. Of course Ginny, being a pureblood, would never have come across plain white A-4 printer paper.

"Its just paper." Hermione said lamely.

"What's the difference between paper and parchment?" Ginny pressed, seeming genuinely intrigued, and Hermione was baffled at the reason why.

Hermione opened her mouth, but seemed to struggle for the right words to say: when it came down to it, there really was no answer to that question. "I don't know," Hermione shrugged, "They're made different?" Somehow this came out more like a question, than a statement.

Neville choked on his juice as he laughed, "I'm sorry, I think I'm hallucinating. Did Hermione Granger just answer a question with 'I don't know'?"

Hermione glared at him through narrowed eyes, but she couldn't help but smile as she threw a piece of toast across the table, hitting Neville square between the eyes as Ginny laughed.

"Shut it." Hermione laughed, before placing the letters in her school bag.

"Aren't you going to read those?" Ginny asked.

"They can keep," Hermione said simply, "Plus, I need to get going to Arithmancy, if I don't want to be late." She said standing from the table, "I'll see you in charms." She said to Ginny, before leaving the hall.

The letters remained in Hermione's bag all day, and she devoted both her frees to completing her homework, so that after dinner she was free to give her undivided attention to Beth's reply. Draco was having another Quidditch practice, and Ginny was studying in the Library with Dean and Neville, which left Hermione with the entire tower to herself. Taking full advantage of this, Hermione brought down her accounts books, and began looking through the papers Beth had sent her, finally able to put in the final figures to her estimates.

When Draco returned to the tower, Hermione was still pouring over the books, her eyes read and her hair even frizzier than usual due to the constant running of her fingers through it in frustration.

"You look…intense?" Draco commented as he came over to the table.

Hermione looked up and gave him a quick tired smile before looking back down, "Beth got back to me today," she explained, "She's sent me a few really good properties for sale in both Nottingham and Newcastle. Exactly what I'm looking for."

"Told you so." Draco said simply, and Hermione could hear the gloating smirk in his voice.

"Yes. Thank you." She said, rolling her eyes. "I now have the final estimate of the budget I need to find. But finding the money is the hard part." She mumbled, speaking more to herself than Draco. "There are a few investments which are turning a prophet; we could take finance from there. I don't really want to touch the house if I can help it." She looked up thoughtfully, staring across to the fireplace. "Harry." She said. "I need to write to Harry." She decided, standing from the study table and making her way across the room to the small table by the window that Hermione had taken to using to write her letters.

Draco frowned and followed, "You're going to ask Potter for money?"

Hermione shook her head, "No. But over Christmas he mentioned something about a settlement, from the Ministry. Compensation for being hunted, and a thank you for saving their arses." She said, with her customary eye roll, that made Draco chuckle.

"I'm guessing they didn't phrase it quite the same way." He said, taking a seat in front of the fire, at an angle that allowed him to watch her profile.

Hermione grinned a little, "Not quite that way, no." She admitted, "But the sentiments the same." She assured him, pulling a piece of parchment toward her and beginning to write.

When she had finished writing, she pulled another letter toward her, which she opened and proceeded to read, leaning back in her chair, a small smile playing on her lips. Draco wondered who this correspondent was, whose words seemed so delightful to read. He watched as she progressed down the page, he smile widening at parts, laughing with wide eyes at another, before biting her lip as her eyes filled with tears.

Draco frowned, "What's wrong?" He asked concerned, standing from his seat and going over to her.

Hermione shook her head, as if to shake away the emotions, and blinked to rid herself of tears. "It's nothing," she said, forcing herself to smile. One look at Draco's face told her he wasn't going to let it drop, so she continued, "This letter is from your mother-"

"My mother?" Draco interrupted, "Why is my mother writing to you again?" he asked.

"Because I wrote to her, again." Hermione said simply, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"How long has this been going on?" Draco asked, clearly surprised, "And how come I didn't know?"

"Since I received Narcissa's first not at the beginning of term, we've been corresponding regularly for weeks." Hermione explained, "And because you didn't ask."

"You're on a first name basis." Draco stated, looking wary, "That's a little weird."

"I know," Hermione admitted, "But I'm getting used to it. She writes that Teddy took his first steps, the other day, in your Library. I wish I could have seen it, but then I thought of how this news is coming to me in your mother's hand. It's not right," Hermione said, her voice breaking slightly, "It should be Dora writing this."

Draco was at a complete loss at what to say, and what to do for that matter. Hermione took a deep breath, shook her head and straightened up, forcing a smile onto her face.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I think I'm tired."

Draco frowned, "You don't have to apologise." He told her, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet so that he could wrap his arms around her. Pulling her closer, he spoke softly, hoping to reassure her and not set her off crying.

"You're right, my cousin should be the one telling you about her son's milestones. But we've just come through a war, and wars are cruel. This war in particular was worse than cruel. I'm not trying to belittle anyone's death, but everyone lost someone in that war, and as hard as it is, we have to remember that they died as heroes. Teddy lost his parents, but they will never be forgotten."

Hermione nodded, and pulled herself away, "I know." She stated, and Draco was relieved to see there were no tears. "I think I'm going to go to bed."

Draco frowned as he looked at her closely – there were no tears in her eyes, but nor were there any emotions either. Hermione's mask was back up, a mask she hadn't worn in front of him for weeks: Draco had become used to understanding Hermione's feelings simply by looking at her eyes, now all of a sudden he was cut off. Before he could do anything, she turned and left him standing alone in the sitting room, wondering what the hell had just happened.

Come the morning, it was as if the previous night hadn't happened: their Friday went the same as any other Friday and that evening they were graced with Ginny's presence, though she was more of an annoying distraction than usual, feeling frantic about Gryffindor's match against Ravenclaw the following day. After an hour of non-stop talking from the redhead, Hermione finally lost her patience.

"One more word about Quidditch," Hermione said, deliberately slow and threatening, "and I swear I will send you flying across the room." She threatened, her eyes never leaving her parchment, "And I don't mean I'll use a flying charm, I'm talking about punching you so hard, that I will send you sprawling across the floor."

Ginny stopped short in her rant, words failing her for a moment, but Draco sniggered from the other end of the table.

"You've turned violent." Ginny said, finally finding her voice, "I blame you."

Hermione looked up to see Ginny glaring accusingly at Draco. "Why me?" Draco asked defensively, "She's always been violent."

"I have not," Hermione said with indignation. Draco put down his quill and leaned back in his seat.

"You punched me in third year." He stated, and Hermione flushed a little.

"Oh yeah, I did do that." Hermione admitted, "I'd had a long day and you pissed me off. But you know what?" She countered, defending herself with her fiery temper, "you try doing your day three times over to attend every class this place has to offer, keep up with all the homework, _and _find time to compose a defence for an innocent victim: see how long it takes for you to crack."

"Three times over?" Draco repeated, clearly sceptical.

"Yes. I had three classes at one time, all day every day." Hermione confirmed, "I was exhausted, and my patience was wearing just a little bit thin when you decided to antagonise me."

Draco frowned, thinking, "So, if you hadn't been as tired, you could have probably put more strength behind that left hook of yours?" He queried: now that was a scary thought, as her punch had hurt at the time, and had left him with bruise – he had had to use a glamour charm for a week to stop people asking questions. Hermione nodded, confirming his suspicion, and Draco turned to look Ginny directly in the eye.

"Run, Ginny." He told her bluntly, "Run now, and don't look back."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh, and she looked at Ginny to give her a reassuring smile, "I'm not as stressed as I was back then, but I'm still pretty wound up. Just please, give Quidditch a rest for a while? At least until I finish this essay?"

Ginny sighed, but gave in to Hermione's request. "Why are you so determined to finish this essay tonight, anyway?" She asked, "You have the entire weekend ahead of you."

"Because she's Hermione Granger." Draco muttered from the other end of the table. Hermione didn't verbally respond to the jibe, but she threw a balled up piece of parchment at his head.

"Because I have a lot of other things to do this weekend, besides school work, so the more I complete tonight, the more time I'll have for the other stuff. So if you could get your team catch the snitch quickly tomorrow, that would be a huge help." Hermione said with a grin.

"I will try my best." Ginny said with an accompanying eye roll.

###

Hermione got her wish for a quick game: each team barely managed to score a goal apiece before Ginny's seeker caught the snitch. It was the shortest match in history, lasting a total of six minutes and forty-two seconds, and while the crowd cheered valiantly for the end of the match, there was a slight feeling of confusion as to what to do next.

"I feel that was too short." Hermione commented to Draco as they walked back to the tower after the match, "Usually at the end of a match we'd go to dinner – but we've only just had lunch." She mused

"I thought you wanted a short match?" Draco smirked, "You're a difficult woman to please Granger." He said shaking his head.

Hermione gave him a smirk worth of his own, "Any woman worth pleasing is always difficult to please." She told him, "And yes, a short match, but five minutes is taking it to the extreme. I was expecting to be down there at least an hour."

"So you have an extra fifty five minutes to fill," Draco said innocently, but the smirk playing across his features told a different story, "I reckon I could help with that." He said, grabbing her wrist and pulling through a tapestry into one of the many hidden passageways. He pinned her to the wall and pressed his lips against hers before she could object.

Hermione reacted instinctively: no matter how many times they kissed it always left her wanting more, and as soon as his lips ever met hers, she couldn't stop herself from wrapping her arms around him to pull him closer and tangle her hands in his hair. She didn't know how he did it, but one simple touch set her skin on fire. She felt him smirk against her lips, and knew that he was fully aware of this little slice of power he had over her. Pressing her further up against the wall with his own body, Draco let his hands roam up and down her sides, and after exploring her mouth with his tongue and kissing her until her lips were swollen, he began to trail soft kisses along her jaw and down onto her neck.

Of course, as soon as her mouth was free of his, she began saying how this was a bad idea. "Anyone could walk in on us," Hermione said breathlessly.

Draco rolled his eyes and brought his lips to hover over hers, "Relax, Granger," he rasped, his voice think with lust – Hermione had the same effect on Draco as he did on her, "No one ever comes in this passage." He told her, before crushing his lips back to hers, and sliding his hand under her shirt running his finger along her waist.

She shuddered at his touch, and gave a small moan against his lips, and before she could think of the consequences of her actions, her hands fluttered down to his shirt and she began to work on his buttons-

"oops! Sorry," A female voice brought them back to reality, and they tore their lips away from each other,

"Oh my," the female voice said, recognising the two in front of her, laughter colouring her tone.

Draco scowled down at the floor with a growl, but Hermione turned to look at the intruder and saw Rachel, the Prefect looking at them and barely containing her mirth.

"Hello Rachel," Hermione sighed.

"Hello." Rachel laughed, barely containing her laugh, "I'll take the long route." She said, before disappearing back out of the portrait. When she had left Hermione glared at Draco,

"So, no one ever comes in this passage." She repeated his words back to him, "Is that so?"

"Not usually, no." He said, stubborn as ever. Hermione pushed him back away from her, and standing away from the wall.

"That was embarrassing," Hermione said, walking through the passage to continue back to the tower, "And it will be around the entire school by the end of the day." She sighed.

"It will not. But so what if it is?" Draco countered, "I don't care." He said, and Hermione thought he actually sounded slightly surprised by his own revelation. "People can say what the want, I don't care, and it has nothing to do with them. At the end of the day you make me happy, you make me a better person, why should I hide that?"

Hermione didn't know what to say to such a revelation, so instead she simply took Draco's hand in hers as they walked the rest of the way in silence. The pair spent the rest of their afternoon in the Head's Tower, so they were unaware of how fast the gossip-mill was turning until later in the evening when Ginny and Blaise let themselves into the tower unannounced.

Hermione was at the large table, frowning over accounts books yet again, trying to locate the funds she needed. Draco was on one of couches, reading. Hermione hadn't paid much attention to what he was reading, but she was pretty certain he'd taken her book again – it hadn't taken long for him to finish the first one, and now he was catching up to her. Hermione was seriously considering attempting a complex duplication charm just to stop him nagging her.

Blaise and Ginny took their own seats, and after a few moments of silence Blaise finally spoke.

"Alright, I'm just going to come out a say it: You two have an entire tower to yourselves but you decide to go at it in the corridors? What's the matter with you?" Blaise chastised, but everyone could hear the laughter in his voice without looking up to see him smirking.

"You're one to talk," Hermione muttered, without lifting her eyes from her papers.

"I don't have my own tower," Blaise countered, "The whole school is now talking about you. It's like the scandal of the year: the Gryffindor Princess and the Slytherin Prince; foes turned lovers. The story is on everyone's lips."

This time Hermione did look up, to glower at Draco, "Told you so, didn't I?" She reminded him.

"And I told you I didn't care." Draco said simply, not looking up from the book.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Why do I get the feeling this is going to come back and bite me in the arse." She muttered.

###

The next week, whispers followed Draco and Hermione throughout the school, and even the teachers seemed to look at them more intently than usual, particularly when they had classes together and would sit beside each other. Despite the whispers, Draco and Hermione's outward appearance didn't change from what it had always been, it was only that people now noticed the subtleties of their dynamic more since their 'relationship' had been ousted. They would go to and from the classes they had together, like they always did, only now people began to notice that Draco always let Hermione pass into a room before him, holding the door open if it was required. They also began to notice their levels of communication, and how some things seemed to be said with only a look. And in light of these new findings, people started to ask themselves why it was never noted before.

Hermione ignored the mutters, the whispers and the comments from the general population, but harder to ignore were the constant questions of her friends. Parvati was full of blatant indignation that both Ginny and Neville seemed to have prior knowledge of Draco and Hermione's relationship, and wouldn't shut up about wheedling every piece of information she could get. Dean had a slight disapproving look on his face, but never said a word against any of it, he simply said: "As long as you know what you doing. We don't want to see you get hurt."

Hermione smiled, and thanked them, but told them not to worry; she had no intention of getting her heart broken. As the scandal began to die down, something else occurred to put the spotlight back on Hermione once again. She was at breakfast on a Wednesday a couple of weeks later, when the post arrived delivering Parvati's regular Witch Weekly, and depositing an official looking letter to Hermione, as well as a note from Harry. Tearing Harry's letter open first, she read the quick note eagerly. He had finally got back to her with the exact sum of money she would be getting from the ministry – it didn't cover the entirety of the costs she needed, but it covered a good portion. Folding the letter back up, she tucked it safely into her robes and opened the official envelope, which contained the official response to her application to join the ministry.

After quickly scanning the opening lines, Hermione gave an excited squeal, quiet enough so that only those around her heard.

"Everything alright?" Neville asked her across the table. Hermione looked up to see Parvati, Neville and Dean staring at her intently, and she could feel Ginny's curious look from beside her.

Hermione nodded, "My application was accepted. I start working for the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures on August first." She said excitedly.

Immediately her friends began congratulating her, and Ginny even raised her goblet of juice to make a toast. Hermione drank with the rest, but she noticed Parvati looking at her left hand intently as she reached for her goblet.

"What's wrong, Parvati?" Hermione asked, after she placed her goblet back down.

Parvati's eyes widened and she shook her head, "Nothing," she squeaked, looking back down at her Witch Weekly. Hermione's heart sank.

"No, tell me." Hermione asked, despite dreading the response. "There's another article about me isn't there?"

Parvati nodded reluctantly, and Hermione took a breath, before quietly asking: "What does it say?"

"It seems they've been holding back some information for a while, building up a story," Parvati started, "I don't know what to believe, but it's about you living a double life."

"Right," Hermione said confused, "I mean, I live like a Muggle during the school holidays, I guess that could be counted as a double life to some degree."

"Yes," Parvati agreed, "But this is saying it's more than that. They've got wind about your relationship with Malfoy. But they're also saying you have a title: That you're Lady Hermione Roseby-Granger, who's going to marry a Muggle Millionaire in June." All of the colour drained from Hermione's face as Parvati delivered the final blow, "They even have photo's of you wearing what suspiciously looks like an engagement ring."

Hermione clapped her hand over he mouth to stop herself screaming out loud. "Show me." She whispered after a moment, holding out her hand for the magazine. Parvati handed it over quietly and Hermione took it without meeting her eyes, and ignoring the looks of the others. She didn't bother to read the article, Parvati had told her the important bits, instead she concentrated on the photos. There were indeed photos of her wearing the engagement ring: one of them was taken outside the theatre in London. The pictures were moving, so a wizard had obviously followed her, and they had snapped her being helped out of the car by Richard – he was holding her left hand up, perfectly displaying the glaringly obvious ruby on her third finger. Hermione stared at the photo, not daring to speak as she felt she might vomit if she opened her mouth.

Ginny had been peering at the spread over Hermione's shoulder, "Where was that one taken?" she asked intrigued, pointing to a photo lower down. When Hermione focused on where her finger was aiming, her eyes widened. She was looking at a muggle photograph (how they had come across it, Hermione couldn't even begin to imagine) that had been taken at Christmas Eve, she was wearing her emerald gown, the ruby ring hung around her neck. Draco was at her side, Richard opposite and the picture had captured the enmity between the two men perfectly: it was easy to see the hate in both their eyes as they looked at each other.

Hermione swallowed, "That was taken in my home," she admitted quietly, "The party my parents held on Christmas Eve."

"Holy shit!" Ginny said, yanking the magazine from Hermione's grasp. Hermione felt the sting of more than one paper cut, but she didn't say anything, she was still too numb. "This room is in your _house_? It looks as big as _my_ bloody house!"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at that, and a few shaky bursts came through.

"Is it true?" Parvati asked.

"Which bit?" Hermione asked, shaking her head. She took a deep breath and then answered before Parvati could ask again, "I have a title," she admitted, "But I don't use it. It comes with the house, and it's been in our family for generations. But I'm not marrying Richard." She said quietly. "If anyone asks you, tell them that. I'm not marrying Richard."

Hermione stood from the table and quickly left the hall, deciding to get to Charms early and wait in the classroom; Ginny came to sit next to her, having left the hall not long after her.

"You said you're not going to marry Richard." Ginny said quietly as she sat down, "but you never said you weren't engaged. Is this the complication you and Malfoy have been talking about?" she asked, "Every time you've said 'it's complicated' is this why?"

Hermione looked over her shoulder to make sure the room was empty, then looked at Ginny. She kept her lips tight together but gave a quick nod, before putting her head in her hands and resting her elbows on the table.

"It's such a mess, Gin," she admitted, "It got out of control, and I couldn't stop it. But I'm getting out of it. Even if it kills me, I'm getting out of it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ginny asked, and Hermione could hear the hurt in her voice.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, "I didn't want anyone to know – Draco only found out because he saw the ring. That's the reason Harry knows as well. But I couldn't tell anyone: if people knew, it would be real. And then I'd never get out of it. It's a business arrangement, that's all. My parents want me to marry him for the money. I'm finding an alternative." Hermione explained simply, but before she could elaborate the door opened and the rest of class entered.

Hermione took a deep breath, sat up straight and smiled at Ginny as if nothing was the matter. She couldn't help but laugh at Ginny's shocked expression.

"How the hell do you do that?" Ginny hissed, "one second you look distraught to tears, next it's like you haven't got a care in the world."

Hermione smiled her best smile, "You know the whole truth about me now," she said, "The fake smiles, and the-devil-may-care attitude is all part of the territory of being a Lady." She told Ginny, as Professor Flitwick entered the classroom and began his lesson.

"I am now reading into everything you've ever done in a completely different light." Ginny muttered with a grin.

Hermione maintained her poise throughout the rest of day, ignoring the return of the whispers, and answering the pointed questions with a calm indifference. More than once did someone come up to her in the corridors asking her if she was really going to marry a Muggle, when she told them no they always had to ask "So why is there a picture of you wearing an engagement ring."

"It's a family heirloom, it will only fit on that one finger." Hermione lied calmly, before carrying on her way.

That night in the tower they were once again joined by Blaise and Ginny; no one mentioned the Witch Weekly article, but its presence was there. Eventually Blaise cracked, and broached the subject first.

"Are we ever going to talk about the white elephant in the room?" he said.

"What white elephant?" Hermione challenged. She felt rather than saw Draco's smirk beside her, and she saw Ginny roll her eyes.

"You can't leave anything alone, can you Blaise?" Ginny accused.

"I'm sorry, I like to know everything. And you know what," he said, addressing his girlfriend quickly before turning to Hermione, "The Gossip Queen of Hogwarts is part of your little Gryffindor clique, so you obviously know what's been printed in Witch Weekly today. You're wealthy." He stated.

"I am." Hermione agreed, "I don't know why that's such a white elephant in the room. If you want to talk about it, go ahead. Just don't expect me to join in. I have a lot of things I have to do and I'm running out of time."

"So it's true then?" Blaise said, "You are engaged to be married to a Muggle in June."

"It's not been formally announced. Not really" Hermione said calmly, "No announcement has been posted, no engagement party held. But it can't be put off forever, I have a feeling my parents will want it announced by April – so, I have until Easter to get out of it. There are three weeks left before the end of term: I'm running out of time, so I don't have the time to spare to answer these stupid questions. And if you talk of this to anyone else, I will personally hunt you down, and hex you so bad that you will never talk again. As far as anyone else needs to know, the story is a fabrication based on misrepresented information. Excuse me." She finished, rising from her seat and moving off up her stairs.

Ginny made to follow, but Draco called her back. "Leave her be." He said simply, "She doesn't want to talk, it'll only upset her more if you follow her."

"And how is it you know her so well all of a sudden?" Ginny countered, but she retook her seat none the less.

Draco shrugged, staring into the flames not looking anyone in the eyes, "It's not all of a sudden, I've gotten used to her ways over time: Living in such close quarters, with only each other for company most of time, you tend to pick things up easier that way." He said quietly. "You guys should go," he said after a moment, "She wont relax knowing you're both still here."

Draco still refused to look away from the flames, but he heard the other two leave their seats and depart the tower in silence. Still he sat and stared, thinking. Three weeks: he was losing her, if she didn't figure this out in three weeks she was going to do the bloody selfless thing and marry that arse to save her family. He wanted to help her, he wanted to give her the money she needed, but life wasn't that blissfully simple. Sure, he had the money, but thanks to his father's fastidiousness, all his money was locked away and he couldn't get to it until he turned twenty-one and Hermione didn't have that long.

Three weeks to find a solution: if this didn't work, he only had until June to be with her, until she was chained to someone else. So what the hell was he doing down here while she was upstairs?

Without a second thought, Draco stood and followed Hermione's footsteps up to her room. He didn't bother to knock, just entered and saw her standing in the doorway out to the balcony, leaning against the frame.

She looked over her shoulder as he entered, gave him a small smile before noticing the look on his face. Draco had so many emotions flowing through him he had no idea which one she was seeing, but whatever it was, it made her frown.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked, ignoring her question.

"For so long I've kept my muggle life separate from my life here. Now, all of sudden, the walls are crashing down and I can't seem to stop them merging no matter how hard I try. Everyone seems to want to know everything about me."

Draco nodded, "Yep, being a saviour of the Wizarding world will do that to you."

Hermione gave a humourless laugh, "I'm missing something." She whispered, turning back to look out into the night, "And if I don't find it soon it's going to be over. The next expose Witch Weekly will be printing will be my wedding."

Draco didn't want to hear anymore: he walked over to Hermione took her in his arms, and spun her around to face him, "Don't give in." He said feelingly, "You'll figure this out. You have to." He breathed, before crushing his lips to her with a need he'd never shown before.

###

For the next couple of weeks Draco and Hermione barely left their tower except for lessons and meals. Their usual crowd would always be present on an evening to study and converse, but as soon as the curfew hit they would willingly leave the two Heads to the alone time they desperately craved. Yet as soon as the tower was empty, Hermione would return to her accounts going over and over the same pages, coming back with the same numbers, but all the time there was something nagging in the back of her mind: she was missing something, painfully obvious, but what it was she just could not say. After an hour of fruitless counting, Draco would always drag her away; sometimes they would simply sit in silence, by the fire as she tried to relax, others they would give in to their passion and their need for each other right there on the study table, or on the rug in front of the fire. They spent every night together either in her bed or his, but despite maintaining an optimistic front, the unspoken words still hung in the air around them: neither would say it out loud, but as each day passed it was hard to ignore that they had one day less to be together.

As they entered the final week of term, Hermione's agitation was severe though only Ginny and Draco knew her well enough to pick up on it. She entered the great hall for breakfast on Tuesday morning looking as calm and serene as she usually did, and didn't falter in her smiles and conversation until the post delivered a letter into her lap. She recognised the hand as her mothers, and couldn't help but wonder what fresh hell she had in store for her on her return home: her mother wouldn't write a general note to her this close to the holidays. Resigned she opened the letter and began to read, picking up her goblet to take a serene sip of orange juice in an attempt to convey a nonchalance she certainly didn't feel. In retrospect, taking a drink was not one of Hermione's wisest decisions, as she barely got halfway down the page before choking on the drink and spraying a decent amount of juice over her letter and her breakfast.

"Sweet Merlin, Hermione!" Ginny called over Hermione's coughing fit, slapping her on the back, "What's the matter with you?"

The commotion had caused a stir amongst all those near to here, and she could feel the eyes of certain Slytherins watching her intently from across the hall. When she finally got her breath back, she managed to stutter out, "Sorry about that." But gave no further indication as to what had caused her little episode.

"Is everything alright?" Ginny asked quietly, as everyone went back to his or her breakfast.

"I've run out of time." Hermione whispered, passing the letter to Ginny so she could read it for herself. Ginny did a better job of keeping a straight face when she discovered that Hermione's mother had arranged for a dress fitting the Monday after Hermione's return. But Ginny did raise her eyebrows as she read the following sentence, detailing Victoria's plan to formally announce the engagement on Tuesday, one week from today.

"You're not out of time yet," Ginny whispered back, handing Hermione her letter. "You still have a week. And once you're home, if you need more time, you can try and postpone your Mother -"

Hermione let out a loud laugh at that, causing people to look back at them, "Oh Ginny. You do not know my Mother."

"Come on, she can't be as stubborn as you?" Ginny countered.

"No." Hermione said, rising from her seat, "She's worse." She gave Ginny a pat on the shoulder, "I have a lot of work to do, thank Merlin I have a free first thing. I'll catch you at break." She said, leaving Ginny to the barrage of questions that were no doubt to be thrown at her as soon as Hermione left the hall.

Despite the extra determination that Victoria's letter had inspired, Hermione still couldn't find that missing piece she was desperate to find. By the time she went to the Great Hall for dinner that evening she was near ready to throw in the towel and admit defeat. Draco had eaten early as he was joining the Slytherin team's final practice session before the end of term, and as Hermione really didn't feel like sitting in the tower alone, tearing her hair out, she decided to walk down to the lake and sit in the gathering dusk, despite the smell of rain that hung heavy in the air.

Draco had been flying for an hour by the time the heavens opened and the cold spring rain fell down upon them. Blaise called an early end to the session and as the team moved off to reconvene in the changing rooms, Blaise deliberately held back to walk by Draco's side, ten paces behind the rest of the team.

"Granger had any breakthroughs yet?" Blaise asked, and Draco thought he already knew the answer to his question. Unbeknown to Draco and Hermione, Blaise and Ginny had been talking about this newest revelation of Hermione's engagement, and while they didn't know the specific details, they knew enough. Draco shook his head, without giving a verbal response and Blaise continued.

"You know, there is an obvious solution here." Blaise pointed out.

"Then please, enlighten me." Draco drawled, "Because Hermione and I can't see it."

"Are you kidding?" Blaise said in slight disbelief, before shaking his head and continuing before Draco could interrupt. "Look, Gin and I don't know the full details, but we know this is to do with money." Draco nodded. "Well, forgive me for stating the obvious, but you're the richest guy I know."

Draco interrupted him this time, "No, I'm not." He said, "When I reach twenty-one, I will be. But until then, it's my family that are rich, not me."

"Alright," Blaise conceded, "So you can't touch your money until you're twenty-one. _Or_, until you marry." Blaise let his sentence hang in the air.

Draco sighed, "You'd think that would be the case, but still no. My father tied my inheritance up tight. Usually you get access at a certain age or if you marry, whichever comes first, but my father decided I was the kind of petulant child who would marry just to get my money, so he scrapped that clause. I could marry Hermione, and she would be inline for a hell of a lot more money than Alden can ever dream of giving her. But she wouldn't get it until I turned twenty-one, and she can't wait that long. And besides, why would she get out of one marriage of convenience just to go into another." Draco finished.

"It's obvious you two want to be together: I doubt she'd see it as a marriage of convenience." Blaise countered.

"She'd be marrying me to get out of marrying Richard. What else would you call that if not for convenience?" Draco snapped. "You're team is waiting for you, I'm going back to the castle." He said, turning away from his friend and walking from the pitch.

He wasn't sure what drew his attention to the lake as he passed, but something did and he saw her sat there, simply staring across the lake in the pouring rain. He knew it was her, despite the distance between them, he would recognise her profile anywhere. And only she would be crazy enough to sit out in the rain, he thought as he made his way toward her.

"Are you trying to catch your death out here?" Draco said as he approached her. Hermione turned to look up at him as he approached.

"Voldemort and his Death Eaters couldn't finish me, I doubt a little rain will do what they could not." She smiled, and despite the worry he was constantly feeling about her future – or rather their future, he supposed – he couldn't help but smile back at her, and took a seat beside her.

"You look tense." He stated.

"I am." Hermione nodded, "I just feel that I'm missing something painfully obvious!" She declared suddenly, "There is a source of money, untapped, and I can't think what it is."

Draco sighed, "I wish I could help. If I could, I would invest-"

Hermione shook her head and interrupted, "I couldn't ask you to do that." She said,

Draco chuckled, "I know. You're too bloody stubborn. That's why _I_ would have come to _you_, and just gave you the money. I have it, in my trust fund, but I can't access it until I turn twenty one."

Hermione's eyes widened and she let out a squeal of a laugh, "You're a genius!" She declared, jumping up.

"I am?" Draco asked, standing up with her, looking confused and wary.

Hermione beamed, "Yes! My trustfund! I have no idea how much is in there, but it should be enough. It will definitely cover more than the missing funds, and if I join it with the Ministry pay out, it may even cover the entire costs, which could save me taking money from other investments! I can't believe I never thought of it. I'll need my parents permission to access it, of course, but if I propose it to them in the right way, they surely can't refuse." She babbled excitedly, and Draco could see the hope in her eyes.

"You're certain? You'd have enough?" Draco asked. "This will solve everything?" He didn't know if he dared believe it, not yet.

Hermione Nodded, "All I have to do is get my parents to agree. Thank you," She breathed feelingly, "I would have never figured that out without you. Thank you!" She said again, before throwing herself forwards and crushing her lips to his.

Draco reacted instantaneously, despite the fact that they were in a very public place and the Slytherin team could be leaving the changing rooms any time now. But for once he didn't care about keeping a low profile, hope was radiating from Hermione in waves, and it was intoxicating. He wrapped one hand around her waist, pulling her body to his; the other tangled itself into her hair, keeping her head in place as close to his as it could possibly be. Before they could get too involved in each other, they were distracted by a series of wolf-whistles and catcalls. It would seem the Slytherin team were making their way back to the castle. Draco felt Hermione laugh softly, but she didn't break contact from his lips, she was too happy to care. So taking his lead from her he refused to break contact too, though he did give his team-mates the finger, before wrapping his arm back around Hermione and holding her tight.

When Hermione finally made it back to the tower, she wrote a quick response to her Mother's note, before penning a letter to her father, asking him for all the information regarding her trust fund. Now all she had to do was wait. It would give her a very small window of opportunity to act, but she was as prepared as she could possibly be up to this point. Everything rested on her father's information.

* * *

**_A/N: So we've finally made a breakthrough, I have the rest of the chapters planned out, and it's going to be so much fun to write. We've also made it to the end of term, so next chapter will bring back the man we love to hate. I will get working on that asap :)_**

**_let me know what you guys think_**

**_xBx_**


	27. Chapter 27: Facing Fears

**_A/N: Another chapter finally ready. Firstly, thank you again to everyone who has reviewed: you're amazing and doing wonders to my ego, soon enough it will get so big it won't be fitting through the door! lol_**

**_I know you're all waiting for the confrontation and downfall of Richard, we're not quite there yet, but we're getting close._**

**_WARNING: The M rating comes back into play in this chapter, at the end (I will but a bold M in brackets at the beginning of the paragraph as a warning, so anyone who doesn't feel comfortable reading the material, skip right down to the end for the final couple of lines.)_**

**_And now I'll let you read :)_**

* * *

**~ Chapter 27: Facing Fears ~**

On the last day of term Hermione received an unexpected invitation from Narcissa, asking her to dine with her at Malfoy Manor on the following Monday. She stared wordlessly at the parchment long enough to draw Ginny's attention. After reading over Hermione's shoulder, Ginny gave a gleeful giggle.

"Things are getting serious," she teased quietly, not wanting to draw everyone's attention, "dinner with the in-laws." Ginny joked, but the laughter died from her face when Hermione gave her a less than impression expression.

"Sorry," Ginny said, realising what she had said, "That was a bad choice of words all things considered."

Hermione shrugged, "Well, at least on Monday I'll know my fate for certain. Monday's dinner will either be the start of something, or the end. I should send a reply before class." Hermione mused, "Otherwise I'll never get around to. Can I borrow your quill?"

Ginny nodded, handing it over without a word, and Hermione wrote a short response – or as short a response as she could – before tying the note to the patiently awaiting owl.

"I thought you were sending a quick reply?" Ginny laughed. "Not a bloody essay."

"It was quick: it was a small note, not an essay." Hermione defended, giving Ginny her quill back.

Ginny scoffed, "Hermione, you were writing non-stop for ten minutes. In letter terms, that's an essay not a note." She clarified.

Hermione didn't bother to dignify that with a response, choosing instead to finish her breakfast in silence, before making her way to her first class. Despite being the final day of term, the lessons were far less than relaxing, and the amount of homework for each class was certainly alarming. But with NEWTs just around the corner, that was to be expected.

Despite the large amount of revision to be completed over the holidays, Hermione's evening was, for once, not filled with study of any kind. Instead she packed a few things in her beaded bag for the next two weeks, and then went to McGonagall's office to arrange her alternative travel plans. Hermione didn't like the idea of travelling the Hogwarts express when she was capable of such quicker alternatives, but as her house was not connected to the floo network, she asked express permission to apparate from the village. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that being the top student ever to have graced the halls, and being on a first name basis with Minerva thanks to their time in the Order, may have worked in her favour, and had something to do with McGonagall agreeing to bend the rules for her.

Hermione left the castle mid afternoon on Saturday, having spent a good portion of the morning saying a very lengthy goodbye to Draco who would be using the floo network to travel later that evening.

"I guess I'll see you Monday," Hermione said, as she was about to exit the tower.

"Monday?" Draco queried, as he gathered up the last of his books he was taking home to study with.

Hermione grinned; apparently Draco was unaware of his dinner plans as of yet,

"Ask your Mother." She said simply, before departing and leaving Draco with a confused and wary look on his face. When she made it home, she spent a good half an hour in her room, unpacking her light luggage and mentally preparing herself for the onslaught ahead of her. She finally found her mother in the Library, sat in front of the fire, her head in a book.

"Mother?" Hermione called softly, not wanting to startle her: Hermione was very much like her mother, in that once she became lost in a good book the real world seemed to melt away, and any disruption tended to be ridiculously startling. Victoria looked up, from her book with a slight look of surprise, as Hermione had expected.

"Hermione! When did you get home?" She asked, standing to greet her daughter with a hug.

"Not long ago," Hermione assured her, "Is Father not here?" She asked, trying to keep her voice casual. Hermione had hoped he would have all the information she had asked of him.

"He's down in London, he should be home tomorrow evening." Victoria said, "How was term?" she asked, retaking her seat and patting the cushion beside her, inviting Hermione to take a seat.

Hermione smiled, "It was good." She said simply, not feeling like sharing too much detail. But she took a seat non-the-less, and instead turned the conversation to the book her mother was reading.

Hermione's weekend passed in a haze of anxiety, waiting for her father to come home. Though she was happy to finally spend some one on one time with her mother, which didn't involve talks of weddings. Hermione had distracted her mother with the journals Narcissa had sent her, and they spent nearly all of Sunday engrossed in the writings of the Grimm brothers. And without the talk of engagements and weddings, which always resulted in an argument, Hermione felt like she was finally getting back the relationship she used to have with her mother. She realised, that afternoon, that perhaps the reason they came to blows so often was not because they were so different, but because they were, in fact, too much alike for their own good. Hermione began to think she may have been a little harsh towards her mother: it was easy to forgive their arguments when they sat in such happy companionship. Hermione also found it easy to forget the war, while she was here like this, in her family home, that hadn't been touched by the devastation that wreaked havoc in the Wizard world: she purposefully kept her parents ignorant of the worst she had gone through, and they had never read a single copy of the Daily Prophet, so they had no idea just how famous their daughter was in her world. Perhaps that was a major problem in itself, Hermione thought to herself, _by keeping them sheltered, I've kept them ignorant of the very reasons I have changed so much._

When Anthony finally did make it home, Sunday evening, he called Hermione into the office almost immediately.

"Hello, Father," Hermione smiled when she entered, "You look tired," she commented.

"Long drive," he said with a tired smile, "Here," he pulled out a manila file from his bag and handed it to her, "A detailed overview of your trust fund, including total funds and forms of access." Anthony gave his daughter a shrewd look, "I assume they will be your main points of interest? May I ask why you're so interested in it all of a sudden."

Hermione gave her father a sly smile, "You may ask." She told him, and she could see he knew the next part of her answer.

"But I'm not going to get an answer." Anthony finished, shaking his head, "You really are your mother's daughter, and you're too much like her for your own good. Alright then," He conceded, "When will I know what you're wanting all this information for?"

"Very soon." Hermione assured him, "But I need to know everything first, before I come to you. I don't like to be anything less than prepared, you taught me that. Trust me, please."

Anthony nodded, and let Hermione leave in peace, taking the file to her room before going down to dinner. Over dinner the conversation inevitably turned to the engagement. Hermione was surprised it had taken so long to come up, though she was certainly thankful for it.

"Hilda will be here at twelve tomorrow, to start your dress fittings." Victoria announced, halfway through the main course, causing Hermione to nearly choke on her wine. "Have you any ideas about what style of dress you want to wear?" Her mother asked, ignoring Hermione's brief moment of surprise.

Hermione shrugged, "To be honest, I've been a little too preoccupied with studying." She said dryly, "That kind of thing does tend to take precedence in a school, believe it or not." Hermione's tone earned a scowl from Victoria, but Anthony gave his daughter a smile – he indulged his daughter's spirit a lot more than Victoria did, maybe that was why Hermione found herself more drawn to her father these days.

"I suppose it just means I will have to try out a fair few styles, tomorrow." Hermione smiled at her mother, attempting to make peace before a war could start to brew. "But I need to be finished before five. I have dinner plans tomorrow evening, remember? I will be leaving here about six-thirty."

"That's fine, I remember." Her mother smiled, "And we should talk about Tuesday, now that we're all here." Victoria added.

"Tuesday?" Hermione queried apprehensively, was she about to find out just how her engagement was going to be announced?

"The engagement announcement." Victoria explained, confirming Hermione's suspicion. "We've been discussing it with Richard, he's become quite a social figure, so we thought we'd do an interview. A couple of magazines are interested in the budding Alden franchise, and we thought it would be good publicity, give our own business a bit of a boost."

"Excellent publicity for Richard," Hermione said, rolling her eyes, "I hear he's always cropping up in the gossip magazines and social pages. He does love the publicity. A little too much, I think"

"It's not just the Alden's they're interested in, though." Anthony spoke up, "While the Aldens seem to be the next big thing on celebrity social scene, the Roseby-Granger clan are still a topic of interest in business circles. Not to mention in the slightly more _reserved_ social scene." He said delicately.

Hermione laughed, "You mean the 'titled' social scene?" she challenged, "As opposed to RIchard's 'rowdy new money' class? Don't be afraid to tell it how it is Father, there's only Mother and I to hear."

Anthony shrugged, "Call it what you will. I had dinner with the editor of _The Market_ magazine, and they've wanted to do a piece on our family for a while. About how we started out in the business world, and our plans for the future. Your mother and I thought we could do a few interviews in one go. Announcing you're engagement would be somewhat interesting in more than one field."

Hermione sighed, she had enough publicity to last a lifetime, "No doubt Richard will love that, he seems to be craving publicity, like a starving man craves food." As Hermione said the words, the seeds of an idea began to take root.

"Alright," she said slowly, "I suppose I can't really object as you seem to have everything planned. What about _House and Garden_ magazine?" Hermione asked suddenly, turning to her mother, "Haven't they been in touch with you repeatedly, wanting to do a piece on the house and family's history? Would it be too short notice to see if they can send someone on Tuesday also? I mean, if we're opening our home to the press, we may as well give everyone a chance, especially when _they've_ been asking for months. We wouldn't want to offend, now, would we?" She asked, innocently.

Victoria nodded, "I could call them tomorrow morning, see what they have to say. It's a bit of a wide variety of audience we'll be going for, it seems." She joked.

Hermione smiled, "Well, if they're interested in our family, they will likely be interested in out future as well as our past. And if you're going to make a public announcement, you may as well reach out to as much of the public as possible. What time are they scheduled to arrive?" Hermione asked.

"Eleven." Victoria answered immediately.

Hermione nodded, "In that case, there's something I would like to discuss with you before they arrive. And I want you to take me seriously, and listen to me patiently, and objectively."

"Alright," Anthony said slowly, "What about?"

Hermione shook her head, "Just put me down for a business meeting and nine. I'll meet you in your office. I realise, this will be cutting it fine with the press, but I would like to have tomorrow morning to prepare thoroughly. Hear me out objectively, and patiently, and it will take no longer than an hour, I'm sure." Hermione said. She saw her parents exchange surprised looks, but they consented none the less. Hermione changed the subject to something more general, ignoring the penetrating gaze of her Father.

After dinner Hermione went back to her room to look over the details of her trust fund and she couldn't believe what she discovered. She worked well into the night, puling together the vital pieces she would need for her proposal on Tuesday morning. With such a relief of pressure lifted from her shoulders, Hermione had a relatively peaceful sleep for once, and awoke at a decent time on Monday morning, allowing her a couple of hours to go over and finalise her proposal.

She felt she was as prepared as she was going to get, when her mother called her down to the ballroom where Hilda was waiting, with a ridiculous number of wedding gowns. There were ten rails filling the room, all containing gowns of varying shades of white and ivory, as well as an obscenely sized collection of veils and tiaras. She thanked the Gods for what was in that file, sitting in her room, as that was the only thing that got her through the hell that was Monday afternoon. She tried on about thirty different dresses, some of them more than once. She tried on two or three tiaras with so many variations of veils she lost count. Hermione felt this would have been a rather enjoyable afternoon, if she was planning a wedding to someone she actually wanted to Marry. More than once during the afternoon did her thoughts flit to Draco Malfoy, but she quickly pulled them back from such a dangerous route: until this engagement was fully dissolved, it was fruitless to think of the possibility of the next. It took Hermione a few moments to register the exact wording of her thought process at that point, but when she did she was slightly alarmed at the sudden revelation of her feelings. She had been so focused on the need to get out of the engagement with Richard, she hadn't stopped to fully consider the exact reason it was imperative to do so. Now she felt she had the answer: she wanted to be with Draco, not just now, but for a long time after.

When five o'clock came, Hermione excused herself to shower and dress for her dinner with Narcissa Malfoy. She was almost ready, wearing a knee-length black cocktail dress, her hair in a loose knot, and was just fastening the emerald earrings to her ears when there was a knock on her outer door.

Jumping from her dressing table, she moved out into her sitting room, pulling her bedroom door closed. Draco would be apparating into her room to escort her to the Manor, as only a Malfoy could apparate in or out of the place, and she didn't want anyone to witness his sudden appearance.

As expected, when she opened the door, Richard was standing on the other side.

"You look nice," he said, sounding surprised.

"Dinner plans," Hermione said shortly, "I'm glad you dropped by, I want to give you something."

She walked back over to the coffee table and picked up the box with her engagement ring, handing it over to Richard, who frowned as he took it, "I don't understand." He said.

Hermione smiled, "Apparently we're announcing our engagement rather publicly tomorrow." She said, "I thought we should take advantage of the situation, and you could present the ring to me, as if for the first time."

Richard smiled, "That will make a great photo opportunity." He conceded.

"Yes it will," Hermione agreed, smiling a little too broadly.

"Do you think you can convincingly feign surprise?" Richard asked, "After all, we'll want it to look as authentic as possible."

Hermione barely contained her grin, "Oh yes," she assured him, "I am a brilliant actress. I want it to look as convincing possible that it's the first time the subject has been broached between us. Don't you worry."

Richard smiled, "It shouldn't be too difficult. We should get some good photos out of it."

"Yes we should." She agreed. "Now, I have to finish getting ready, I'll see you tomorrow at eleven." Hermione told him, ushering him out of the door. On the threshold she stopped,

"Oh, I almost forgot." She said, turning Richard's attention back around. He frowned warily at her expression: Hermione was still smiling, but there was iciness to the expression, and something underneath that he couldn't place.

"Thank you for the roses, on Valentine's day. They were just what I expected of you. Tell me, did Melissa like hers, too?" Hermione said, and she was happy to see Richard pale slightly.

"I don't know what you mean." She stumbled.

"Yes you do. I didn't think you'd forget our conversation at New Years, so quickly. But apparently you did. I'll see you tomorrow Richard." She said, still smiling, "And make sure you don't forget the ring."

Hermione returned laughing to her room to see Draco sitting on her bed, "I thought you'd stood me up." He accused, eyes raking her entire from, "You look amazing." He told her.

"Thank you," she grinned, walking to her closet, "Just let me get my shoes and I'll be ready to go. I would have been ready before you got here, I just had something to take care of quickly." She said over her shoulder. When her shoes were on, and she had grabbed a thin dress cloak to put over her shoulders, she returned to her room to take Draco's hand, picking up a parcel from the end of her bed as she went.

Draco looked at her intently as he took her hand, "You seem far too happy considering your intended destination." He said to her, and was surprised to see her grin widen.

"It's been a rather good twenty-four hours. I'll tell you all about it later," Hermione said simply, "Now, shouldn't you be taking me to my intended destination, we shouldn't keep your mother waiting."

Without another word, Draco tightened his grip on Hermione and apparated them both into the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor.

When Hermione took in her surroundings, she was certainly surprised. "Wow," she breathed, "definitely not how I remember it." She said without thinking.

Draco gave her hand a squeeze, and Hermione looked up to see him gazing at her with some concern, "Are you going to be ok here?" he asked, and she knew he was remembering her last visit to the Manor also.

"I'll be fine, honestly." She told him, taking a deep breath. "I'm not saying it's easy, being back here, but you have to face your fears, right?"

Draco smiled reassuringly, and began to walk through the halls. "We'll be in the family reception room to start with, and then we'll eat in the family dining room-"

"Really?" Hermione said in mock amazement, "I would never have guessed that."

Draco turned his gaze upon her, and while Hermione gave a laugh, he didn't seem impressed by her sarcasm.

"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," Draco continued, "After dinner, we'll move into the adjoining family drawing room. They are all rooms you've never been in before." He told her, and Hermione had to smile at the reassurance he had given her. She didn't want to ask about the only room she had seen in the manner, she couldn't bring it up, but he had told her without her having to ask, that she would not be subjected to that room this time.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, as the turned a corridor. After five minutes of travelling the halls and going through a series of rooms, they finally made it to their destination, where Narcissa, Andromeda and Teddy were waiting for them. Narcissa was the first to greet her as she entered.

"Hermione," she smiled, "Welcome, I'm glad you could make it. I see you took the look way here." She said, and Hermione noticed Draco frown, as he went to get a drink for himself and Hermione.

"You know I don't go in that room, mother." He said tensely, his tone putting an end to any further questions.

"Thank you for inviting me," Hermione said, deciding to ignore the strange exchange between mother and son. She held out the package she had picked up before she left. "And thank you for letting me look at these, they were fascinating."

Narcissa grinned, "Aren't they?" she said, "You didn't have to return the so quickly."

"I've already read through them twice," Hermione admitted, "I didn't want to cause any damage by reading them too much."

From that point onwards, Draco was denied the opportunity of talking to Hermione much, as she and Narcissa became engrossed in conversation over the books. While half his attention was constantly on the brunette, Teddy who had taken quite a shine to him over the weekend soon claimed the rest of Draco's attention. Hermione couldn't help but smile as she watched Draco and her Godson out of the corner of her eye, while she conversed with Narcissa and Andromeda, who joined their conversation after saying a few words to Draco.

At dinner the conversation turned to Hermione's plans after she left Hogwarts.

"You were going to apply for Ministry, were you not?" Narcissa asked.

Hermione nodded, "I did, and I was accepted. I'll be working as a hunter, in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. But I'm also intending to invest in my parents' business. I was alwasy going to inherrit it, but I thought it would be nice to have a hand in the running for a while, before they hand it over completely. I actually have a meeting with them in the morning, to give them my proposal, but they shouldn't have any objections." She smiled.

"So you're trust fund covers the remaining costs?" Draco asked imediately, bringing Hermione's attention to him, and ignoring the surprised looks of his Mother and Aunt.

Hermione smiled, "They cover it all." She said gleefully, before looking back to Narcissa, who asked her details about the business and her future plans. When desert was served, Draco asked the question he had been dying to ask since Hermione had first revealed she had the money, not able to restrain himself until they were alone.

"So, the original business proposal," Draco hedged, "that no longer stands?"

Hermione allowed herself a sly smile in Draco's direction as she picked up her goblet, swirling the contents as she brought it to her lips, while choosing her words carefully.

"The original plan was going to be announced tomorrow. My parents have set up a bit of a press conference I suppose you could call it, with the number of journalists who are supposed to be there. If my parents are on board with my proposal, we will announce this way forward instead."

"So the initial proposal has been formally rejected?" Draco clarified with a frown, not entirely sure what Hemrione was trying to say.

Hermione's smiled widened a little more, "Not yet. The original offer will be made again tomorrow; he intends it as a publicity stunt. He doesn't yet know his proposal will be rejected, and the alternative announced."

Draco tried hard not to laugh, but he couldn't help but grin, "And how many magazines will be there?" He asked.

"Enough," Hermione shrugged, Draco chuckled then and Hermione knew he had figured out her plan,

"You are a piece of work, Granger." He said with a shake of his head, but she heard the compliment in his tone no nonetheless.

Hermione felt the curious gazes of the two women, experiencing this new dynamic between her and Draco for the first time, but thankfully they didn't question. They continued the conversation of business for a little longer, and Hermione explained a little about the other ventures her family were invested in.

When they removed from the dining room into an adjoining drawing room, Narcissa and Andromeda quizzed Hermione further about her family home and it's history, and for first time Hermione told someone in the wizarding world about her prestigious heritage. She explained how the house and grounds began as twice the size of what they were now, and the reasons for the down-sizing of the estate.

"The entire place would have been approximately half the size of this, I would imagine. It used to be known as the Roseby Park Estate. But after the first Muggle world war, times were changing, estates were becoming a thing of the past, and a lot of land was sold off. Not long after, the name changed to Roseby Manor: the house was still large, and the grounds were fairly extensive, still but not quite big enough to warrant the name 'estate', or so my family believed. Over the years a few more acres went, and then in the seventies there was the fire that destroyed half the house." Hermione said sadly, "It was a blessing and a curse: the insurance pay out was a well timed addition to the house funds, but there was nowhere near enough money to restore it to it's former grandeur. Instead, the house was redesigned to maximise the potential of what remained, and the rest was torn down and taken away. I came across the plans of the original building many years ago," Hermione smiled, "I've always wanted to rebuild it, take it back to it's former glory. Maybe even try and buy back some of the land." She shrugged, "Don't think I'll ever find the money to do it though."

The next questions that followed queried the inheritance laws, which were a lot more lenient in the Muggle world, than in the Wizarding.

"I will inherit everything." Hermione said, "it used to be that women couldn't inherit the lands and houses, but that's changed now: generally the eldest son will still inherit, but if there are no sons, the legacy goes to the eldest daughter, instead of the next male heir."

"But you lose the Roseby name don't you?" Andie asked, "Once you marry, I mean."

"Not necessarily." Hermione said, "My mother kept it, and created a double name: my full surname is Roseby-Granger." She explained, "If I married, I would still keep the Roseby, but the Granger would change."

Hermione was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable now the conversation had turned to marriage, so she changed the subject by making a comment on the decoration of the place, commending Andromeda for the fruition of her plans, and the conversation soon led to Narcissa's further plans concerning the rest of the rooms and the gardens. Draco spent a good portion of that conversation indulging Teddy, who seemed to have a second wind of energy, despite the lateness of the hour, cleverly stealing Hermione's attention back to him by making Teddy take his tiny steps in her direction. Eventually Teddy grew tired again, and after falling asleep on Hermione's lap, Andromeda finally took him up to his nursery and Draco steered the conversation back to a topic he could join in with.

When Andromeda returned, she retook her seat with a stifled yawn, and only then did Hermione realise how late it was getting.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, "I didn't realise the time, I hope I'm not keeping you up."

"Nonsense," Narcissa answered for Andromeda, adding with a grin, "She's just getting old, she'll be fine."

Hermione laughed, especially at the face Andromeda made at her sister, "But, really I should be going soon," Hermione said, "I have a long day tomorrow. And I don't want to keep you up."

"At least have one more drink before you go? Another wine? Or Firewhiskey to end the night?" Narcissa asked, genuinely wanting Hermione to stay longer.

Hermione nodded, "Alright, one more." She grinned, "I'll take the whiskey, just a small."

"Draco, come help me." Narcissa said, walking over to the sideboard.

"Before you go," Andromeda said, as the other two left their sides, "I'd love your advice. There's a room I've redone, but no one seems to want to use it. Narcissa barely goes in it, and only ever passes through it when she does. Draco refuses flat out to go in the room, and pretends it doesn't exist. I think it's a great space, but they seem to disagree."

Hermione shrugged and stood, "Alright, where is it? It's not going to take ten minutes to find is it?" she asked warily and Andromeda chuckled.

"No, it's through here." Andromeda indicated to the door on the far wall, at the opposite side of the room to where Draco and Narcissa appeared to be in deep conversation.

Hermione smiled and followed Andromeda, taking a sip of the wine still in her hand as she moved. She had no idea where in the house she was, but as Hermione had walked a good five minutes from the Entrance hall, she felt she was embedded in the Monor, and nowhere near the room she wanted to forget.

Andromeda opened the door and walked into the centre of the room, "See, this room is huge, it would make a wonderful entertaining space, don't you think?" She asked.

Hermione had taken two steps into the room and froze: it was different, certainly; the décor was at any rate. Except for the rug. Hermione's eyes stared at the rug; she couldn't seem to look away. Despite the changes in colours, there were no lights in the room and the darkness only made it more recognisable. She thought she was far away form this room, but she had been wrong. One year ago she had been taken to Malfoy Manor, dragged into this very room, and there on that rug she had been held down, kicking and screaming…

"Hermione?" She heard Andromeda's voice, but when she looked up it was Bellatrix she saw, walking towards her, reaching out to her and taking her arm. The contact snapped Hermione into her fight reflexes; tearing her hand away automatically she took hasty steps backward, and dropped the wineglass she was holding on the floor.

The shatter of the crystal in conjunction with the sounds of hurried footsteps from next door jolted Hermione back to her present situation and she shook herself to clear the past from her mind.

"Hermione, are you alright?" This time it was Draco's voice she heard, but she didn't look at him, she couldn't. She was experiencing a moment of weakness and didn't want him to see it completely. But she still saw them out of the corner of her eyes: Andromeda in front of her, Narcissa a couple of steps into the room, but Draco was in the doorway, _he never comes in here_, she remembered. She couldn't face anyone's gaze, not yet, not until she composed herself. Instead she sank to her knees and began to collect the pieces of crystal scattered across the floor.

"I am so sorry," she said, her voice shaky, as she picked up the pieces, "I didn't mean to drop the glass, it just slipped from my hand – ow!" she gave a sharp intake of breath as she accidentally sliced herself on a large shard. "And now I'm bleeding all over your floor," Hermione stated, "I'm so sorry." She repeated.

"Leave the glass, dear, we have more than we ever use, we won't miss one." Narcissa said queitly, moving forwards toward her. But it was Draco who got there first; he knelt wordlessly beside her, placed both hands on her elbows and made her stand. Silently her brought her back into the other room, where he sat her down and took out his wand. Without a word, he set to work cleaning and healing her hand.

Before an awkward silence could ensue, Andromeda spoke softly, "Hermione, I'm sorry-"

Hermione shook her head, "Don't be. I'm fine." Andromeda looked like she didn't believe a word Hermione was saying but she didn't press the matter.

"I should go check on Teddy, and then I think I'll turn in for the night. Good night everyone." Andromeda said.

"Goodnight, Andie," Hermione smiled, "I'll see you soon."

When Andromeda left, Narcissa decided to take her leave also, "I think I might turn in as well,"

"Narcissa, I'm so sorry-" Hermione began again, but Narcissa silenced her by placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Nonsense, no apologies necessary. I hope to see you again soon." Narcissa smiled such a genuine smile that Hermione couldn't help but return it.

"Thank you for dinner, I've had a wonderful evening. Truly I have, we'll meet again soon, I'm sure." Hermione said.

"Draco will see you safely home," Narcissa said, before turning to her son, "Take care of her." She commanded quietly before leaving the room.

Draco and Hermione were silent for a few minutes, until Hermione wasn't able to take the silence any longer.

"Well, I sure know how to clear a room." She said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin the evening."

"Stop." Draco said quietly; so quietly Hermione wasn't sure he'd actually spoken. "Stop apologising. Come on, I'll take you home." He said, taking her freshly healed hand in his and pulling her to her feet. They retraced their steps back down to the apparition point in silence; only when they appeared back in Hermione's room did Draco speak again.

He stayed close to Hermione, his body mere centimetres from hers; he placed his hands softly on her cheeks and rested his forehead against hers, "I'm sorry that happened." He whispered. "I never go in the room, I haven't been in there since…" he trailed off, but took a breath and continued before Hermione could interrupt, "We never use that room, I never thought Andie would… She doesn't know what happened in there, I should have told her not to, I should have made sure-"

Hermione placed her hands over his, "Stop" she told him, cutting him off from his rant, "I should have been more prepared for that. But I wasn't. I'd been having such a wonderful evening, I was relaxed, and almost forgot where I was. It was the rug that did it," She said softly, "I remember that rug vividly, I was laid on it for some time and it's pattern is not one I'll forget."

Draco took his hands from her cheeks and wrapped them tight around her waist, pulling her close to him and she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on tiptoes to get as close to him as possible. Draco leant his head down, pressing his face into her neck, and whispered into her collarbone. "I was stupid to let you put yourself in that position tonight."

Hermione gave a small laugh at that, "You didn't let me do anything. You're mother invited me; it would have been rude to refuse. I knew exactly what I was getting myself into." Hermione assured him. She moved herself slightly so she could look at him, a question on her lips, but she hesitated a fraction of a second, not wanting to seem weak in his eyes.

Draco frowned slightly, "What is it?" He asked.

Hermione let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding, shook her head and looked at the ground, "Nothing, it doesn't matter." She mumbled.

"Tell me," Draco persisted quietly, lifting her chin to make her look at him. Hermione swallowed.

"Can you stay tonight?" she asked him quietly. "I know I'm going to have that nightmare, and I don't want to wake up alone." She admitted

Draco gave a small smile, "Is Hermione Granger actually admitting she needs me?" He asked and Hermione dropped her gaze, hating herself for being so weak. Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face, for Draco kissed her forehead and spoke in all seriousness.

"It doesn't make you weak to admit you need someone." He told her, "You are the strongest woman I know, Granger, and nothing is going to change that."

Draco brought his lips down to hers, but there something different in the way he kissed her this time, in the way she kissed him: it wasn't full of the need and angst like so many of their kisses were, this time it was more tender, something much deeper: It wasn't fiery and rushed, but slow and tender. Even as the kiss deepened as Hermione parted her lips wider allowing for Draco's tongue to explore her mouth, it was tender and sensual.

**(M)**Slowly, Draco disengaged his mouth from hers, trailing kisses along her jaw, down her neck and then across her shoulder, gently moving the strap down her arm, before moving across and doing the same on the other side. He reached his hands softly around her to unzip her dress, as she began removing his shirt, trailing kisses along his collarbone, and over his chest. When her dress and his shirt had been discarded, they stepped out of their own shoes, simultaneously making their way to the bed, their lips once again locked together, both trying to convey the emotions they had struggled so long not to say. Hermione assisted Draco in the removal of his pants, before he laid her gently on the bed, their lips breaking contact momentarily, but their eyes never straying from each other. Draco lowered his head to quickly capture her lips, before moving down to the hollow of her neck, and continuing down her body. Discarding the lace bra to the floor, he took one of her breasts in his mouth, gently sucking and biting at her nipple, while a hand caressed and squeezed the other, causing her to hiss with pleasure and arch her back, pushing her body into his. One hand he kept anchored on the bed at her side, keeping him hovering above her, while the other then skimmed down the contours of Hermione's body, slipping under the waistline of the lacy knickers to tease her; slowly he let a finger enter her and he was surprised at how hot and wet she was already.

A moan escaped Hermione's lips and she tangled her hands into Draco's hair as he moved to continue his trail of kisses down her body. Removing the final article of her clothing, Draco gently kissed her mound, eliciting another hiss of pleasure. Hermione instinctively lifted her hips lightly, begging Draco silently for more, causing him to smirk slightly as he willingly obliged. He took his time, drinking in the taste of her, and savouring every move she made underneath him, every moan and every sigh that escaped her, as he licked and kissed and suckled at her sex. Patiently he continued, as Hermione's breathing quickened, her gasps and moans becoming louder and stronger, until her back arched and he felt her body spasm beneath him as she reached her peak, crying out his name as she released.

Gently he kissed his way back up her body, until he hovered directly over her once again. Hermione took his face in both her hands, running a thumb over his lips that glistened with her wetness, before pulling his mouth down to hers.

"Your turn," Hermione mumbled against his lips still breathless from her high, and Draco could feel her mouth curling into a sly grin, he felt her try to shift her weight beneath him so that she could reverse their position, as her hands travelled down his body to the waist band of his boxers. Draco stilled her hands with his own, entwining his fingers with hers, he brought them back up and rested them beside her head, and he pulled back from her lips ever so slightly.

"No," he breathed, with a smile, before kissing the spot on her neck that always made her shiver, "tonight is all about you." He told her.

"But-" Hermione started, before Draco silenced her with another kiss. Within minutes Hermione was pressing her body back against his, her hips coming up to meet his, betraying her need for more of him. Removing his final barrier between his skin and hers, he positioned himself over her, his eyes boring deep into hers as he slowly entered her. The never broke eye contact, not once, as their bodies moved together, slow and tender. It was completely different from every other time they had been together: the passion and the need were still there, but it was simmering below something much deeper. Where before it had been sex, this was more, this was making love. And both knew it: something had changed between them tonight, whether it was Hermione's belief that she was finally free, that the unspoken end-date of their relationship was now lifted, neither of them knew. But it didn't matter, the fact remained the same: they couldn't deny the exact extent of their feelings anymore.

Draco could feel himself close to his release, but held back, wanting Hermione to come first. His hand moved down her body to come between them, his thumb brushing against the bundle of nerves at her juncture, to help her along to her climax. Soon enough, he felt her body begin to buck beneath him, felt her walls tightening around his length, as she cried out his name again in pure ecstasy. That was all it took for him to let go, he took her mouth with his, swallowing the cries of her release, as he released himself in her, moaning into her mouth as he did so.

As the waves of pleasure slowly receded from their bodies, their kiss slowed, until finally their lips parted, but neither made a move to shift their position. Draco remained hovering over her, still savouring the feel of being enveloped by her, as they both sought to catch their breath, his forehead resting gently against hers.

"Tomorrow has to go to plan: you have to get out of the engagement," he finally breathed, his voice thick with emotion and his eyes fluttering open to meet her gaze, "Because I've fallen in love with you, and I don't want you to be with anyone else." He admitted.

A smile spread slowly across Hermione's face, lighting up her every feature, she lightly captured Draco's lips for the briefest of seconds, "I will succeed tomorrow." She assured him, "Because I've fallen in love with you too, and _I_ don't want me to be with anyone else, either."

The smile that graced Draco's features was the truest smile she had ever seen on him. Their lips met one last time before Draco rolled to the side, enveloping Hermione in his arms, and pulling her tight to his chest. They laid there quiet and peaceful, simply revelling in each other's presence without the need to talk, as sleep slowly took them.

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**_A/N: So, there we have it. As always, let me know what you thought. _**

**_There are only three more chapters left (I say three, but there is the potential for a fourth one to rise up in there somewhere, I'll see how it goes.) But the next chapter is the one you've all been waiting for...revenge is on the horizon, and I can't wait to start writing it._**

**_Thank you, once again, to all my readers, to everyone who has followed and added me to favourites, and especially to my reviewers - thank you for taking the time to comment, I really appreciate it._**

**_I'll try and have the next chapter ready in a week._**

**_xBx_**


	28. Chapter 28: Sweet Revenge

_**A/N: A fairly speedy update for you this time. Thank you for all my reviews, you guys are great :) and Thank you to everyone who has read so far and added me to their alerts and/or favourites, it really means a lot.**_

_**So, here it is, the one we've all been waiting for... mwahahahaha ...gods I hope you like it lol**_

_**Oh, and there's nothing M-rated in this one, just so you know ;)**_

_**xBx**_

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**~ Chapter 28: Sweet Revenge ~**

Hermione awoke after quite possibly the best night's sleep of her life, cursing the buzzing from the alarm clock.

"What the hell is that God-awful sound?" Draco murmured into her hair. They were both laid facing the same way, Draco's arm wrapped protectively around Hermione's waist, holding her close, her back pressed firmly against his chest.

Hermione laughed, "That's my alarm clock," she said reaching out to hit the snooze button, before turning around to face Draco.

"Good morning," Hermione smiled up at him.

"Good morning," Draco smiled lazily back, pushing a loose curl gently behind Hermione's ear, "How did you sleep?"

"Really good," Hermione said, then she remembered the reason she had asked Draco to stay, "I didn't have a nightmare." She said suddenly. "It usually would take a lot less to trigger the nightmares, than what happened yesterday. But I didn't dream anything." Hermione smiled, and snuggled into Draco's chest. She didn't say it out loud but she knew he was the reason: she felt incredibly safe enveloped in his arms, safer than she'd ever felt before.

It was as if Draco could read her thoughts, "You're welcome." He said, and Hermione heard the smirk.

"Did I say you were the reason?" She asked, looking up at him with a smirk of her own.

"You didn't need to," Draco told her, the infamous Malfoy cockiness coming into play, "It's always me."

Hermione laughed, and reached up to kiss him. Draco deepened the kiss almost instantaneously, running his tongue along her lips, begging for entrance to explore her mouth. Hermione immediately obliged, tangling her hands in his hair and bringing him even closer, she moulded her body to his, and felt his arousal pressing against her.

Draco let out a frustrated growl as the alarm clock started buzzing again.

"I thought you'd turned that damn thing off." He complained, as Hermione laughed gently against his lips, before pulling away.

"I hit the snooze button," she sighed, "I have to get up now, I have an important meeting to prepare for." She said, reaching behind her to shut of the alarm, properly this time, and tried to disentangle herself from Draco's grasp.

Draco frowned, and tightened his grip. "No." He stated, sounding like a petulant child.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, and laughed, "You sound like a spoilt child." She told him.

"I am a spoilt child." He replied with a grin, earning himself an eye roll. "I always get what I want."

"Boy, are you going to have a rude awakening." Hermione laughed, "_I'm_ the one who always gets what she wants: you're going to have to get used to losing a few battles every now and then." She warned.

"Now who sounds like the spoilt child?" Draco joked.

"Either way, I need to get up, it's eight-fifteen. I have forty-five minutes to get ready. Today is a big day, I can't be late." Hermione reiterated, and finally Draco let her go, with a huff.

"Fine," he conceded. "I'll just wait right here."

As Hermione went to shower, Draco took in his surroundings properly for the first time. He had been in Hermione's room on a couple of occasions now, but he had never really taken it in: Hermione had always been there to command his full attention. But now that her distracting presence was absent, he finally took in the décor, and couldn't help but be a little confused. Hermione exited the bathroom twenty minutes later, wearing a fluffy white bathrobe, her hair teased into a French braid that fell down her back, and her make up simply, but fully, done. As she moved around the bed to make her way to her closet on the other side, she took in Draco's confused look.

"What's wrong?" she asked, not breaking step.

"I can't believe it took me so long to realise, but why is your room decorated in Slytherin colours?" He asked, "Do you have a secret obsession with my House?"

Hermione laughed as she entered her closet. "No," she called back. "I had my room like this long before I started Hogwarts: before I even knew I was a witch." She told him. "It's based on the Emerald City, from the Wizard of Oz."

"Never heard of him." Draco called back, and Hermione laughed.

"It's a Muggle movie. My favourite film." She told him, reappearing five minutes later fully dressed, fastening a belt around her waist. "How do I look?" She asked.

Draco took in her appearance from his spot, reclining against her headboard, the covers at his waist. She was wearing a black pinafore dress, cinched with a white belt, and a pair of white heels.

"Very professional." Draco commended and Hermione smiled.

"Good," she said walking to her dressing table, when she walked away Draco noticed the flash of red from the sole of her shoes and chuckled.

"What's with the red soles?" He asked, "Trying to help muster some Gryffindor courage?"

Hermione glanced down and grinned, "I hadn't even thought of that." She admitted, "I like these shoes with this outfit, it has nothing to do with the colour of the soles: that's just the colour the designer picked to use on all his shoes." She explained, as she fastened a watch to her wrist, and flattened out her dress.

"Okay," she said, and Draco heard the slight nervousness in her voice. He stood from the bed, wrapping the sheet around his waist.

"You'll do great," he said, walking up to her, and putting an arm around her waist. "You're completely prepared, you can do this." He told her with sincerity.

Hermione smiled, thankful for the vote of confidence. "I can." She agreed, before placing a quick kiss on his lips.

"You need to get dressed." She told him, "If someone comes in here and sees you naked in my bed, well that'll be another scandal for us to work through." Draco laughed, as Hermione continued, "Wait in my sitting room. If anyone finds you there, you can say you called around early and I told you to wait for me there. They won't buy it if they find you in my room, no one is usually allowed in there."

"Noted." Draco nodded, "I'll go home and change, then wait patiently." He glanced at the book sitting on Hermione's bedside table, then back at her, "you brought books home right?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing precisely what he was meaning, "the second one is on the coffee table through there." She told him, "Now I have to go." She said, turning to leave. She picked up the file she had put together the day before, from the writing table in her sitting room, and made her way down to her parents' study.

She knocked on their door with five minutes to spare, but when she entered both her father and her mother were waiting for her. They both looked up with a smile as she entered, and moved themselves from their desks to stand in front of the small table in the centre of the room.

"Alright," Anthony said, eyeing the manila file in Hermione's grasp, a small gleam in his eyes, "Are you going to tell us what you've been up to?" he asked.

Victoria frowned, and looked from her husband to her daughter, "She's been up to something?" She asked.

"While you've been thinking of weddings, Hermione has been studying the business." Anthony said, before taking a seat at the table, and signalling for the girls to follow suit. "We have two hours to discuss what you want to discuss," he said, "Shall we begin?"

Hermione smiled, taking a seat opposite her parents, thankful her father was taking her seriously. "I know that the main draw to my marriage with Richard is to get my claws into the Alden fortune." Hermione said frankly, "Please," she said, when her mother looked set to interrupt. "Hear me out. I've been looking into the finances of the business fully: To secure the business' growth and future success, we need to expand." She said, opening the file and pulling out the top papers and handing them across the table.

Hermione then went on to discuss her plans for expansion, her reasons for opening two more clinics and a detailed validation of the locations chosen. She walked them through the costs she had tallied for each location, separately, before going through the forecasts she had come up with for each clinic's estimated potential revenue for the first eighteen months.

Her parents listened objectively, and for that she was grateful. They asked her questions here and there, and their tone told her they were taking her seriously: as serious as any other businessman would be taken, and this gave her the confidence to answer every question with conviction.

"Alright." Anthony nodded, when Hermione had gone through everything, "This is what your mother and I have been thinking about, but we hadn't gone into it this thoroughly. But you've been through all our finances: to cover the costs we will need to find an external source of revenue."

Hermione smiled, "Not necessarily." She said. "I realise that this is where the Alden's money comes in, in your plans. But there is an alternative." Hermione pulled out the final piece of paper: the details of her trust fund, and passed it to her parents.

Anthony looked ready to object, but Hermione cut him off, "I have the money to cover all the costs. If we focus on one clinic at a time, the funds will continue to incur the interest, and any extra-unforeseen costs, along the process, should also be covered as well. The only flaw in my plan, is that I need you're signatures to access my money before I turn twenty-five."

"This money, your trust fund, it's for your future: to buy a house, see you through university." Anthony hedged, "You shouldn't have to spend it all in the business."

"This business _is_ my future. I won't be going to University. I have money in the Wizarding World – a pay out, for the part I played in the war, that will be enough to buy a home, or rent somewhere in London. I have a place at the Ministry when I leave school – I can live of my wage. I want to invest in the business. I don't want to just inherit it, I want to be a part of it, and work along side you as an equal, before you hand it over to me completely." Hermione stated.

Victoria and Anthony looked at each other, communicating without words, before looking back at their daughter.

"Are you sure?" Victoria asked.

"One hundred percent." Hermione nodded, giving them a small confident smile.

Her parents looked at each other once again: Victoria raised her eyebrows in a silent question, Anthony tipped his head to the side, and lifted his shoulders in a single shrug, at which Victoria gave a resigned nod.

Anthony looked back at his daughter, a proud grin spreading across his features, "In that case: Welcome aboard." He said, holding his hand out across the table.

Hermione grinned, even laughed, as she took her father's hand and shook it, relief flooding through her.

Victoria glanced at the clock, "People will be arriving soon," she said, "We'll do all the paperwork this afternoon, open your trust fund, sign some contracts: by this time tomorrow you will be an equal partner in the business." She smiled, looking to stand.

"Just, one more thing, before we move." Hermione said casually. Anthony chuckled.

"Here it comes," he laughed, leaning back in his seat.

"Here what comes?" Hermione asked,

"The ulterior motive." Anthony said, "You're my daughter, I know you well. Let's hear it."

"We all know the main reason for me marrying Richard, was to access his money for this purpose." She indicated to the papers spread across the table, "We don't need it anymore. So this engagement can finally be put asunder. I never wanted to marry the guy." Hermione admitted, "I told you I did before you went into hiding, for purely selfish reasons. I could see it was what you wanted, and I knew then that I would be erasing myself from your memory and sending you away, with the possibility of never seeing you again. I wanted our last weeks together to be happy." Hermione explained. "I don't want to marry him, we have no chemistry, it was only for his money, can we call an end to this ridiculous charade now?"

"You truly never wanted this?" Victoria asked, "But you seemed so excited before we went into hiding." She said uncertainly,

Hermione shrugged, "I'm an excellent liar." She said, "It was important to you, I just wanted to make you happy, before I sent you away."

Victoria looked at her daughter with a pained expression, before moving around the table and embracing her, "I'm sorry," she said, "I never realised you were so against it from the very beginning. Is there really nothing at all between you?" she said, pulling back.

"I can't stand the guy," Hermione said bluntly, as Victoria sat down next to her daughter, "He's a complete arsehole." She said simply, causing her mother to frown at her language, and her father to chuckle.

"I think it's about time you knew the truth." Hermione said warily, "He's been sleeping with Melissa behind my back, for a while."

Her parents eyes widened at the revelation, "I warned him not to cross me," Hermione continued, "I told him to stop, but he didn't. And now he's going to pay. You're on my side now, right? All talk of this wedding is done with? The engagement is officially over?" Hermione clarified.

"Of course," Victoria said heatedly, "I didn't know about that, of course I won't make you marry someone like that. You're a Roseby, you can do much better." She said and Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes at her Mother's sudden change.

"If I'm honest," Victoria continued, "I'm incredibly relieved you found an alternative: The Aldens are no proper match for a Roseby lady." Hermione laughed and shook her head, but before she could say anything Victoria spoke again, "What are we going to do about the reporter? They're expecting a story."

Hermione allowed herself a smirk – a smirk worthy of the most cunning Slytherin. "Leave it to me." She said, "We'll announce my investment into the family business: a new dawn of the Roseby-Granger franchise. But they'll get an even better story, don't you worry." She said. Victoria frowned, and Anthony surveyed his daughter warily.

Hermione stood, "I should go meet the reporters, and I believe Richard will be waiting for me, with them."

"Hermione?" Anthony started, sounding very wary indeed.

"I'll tell them you're held up with some business: come along in fifteen minutes, that should be time enough." Hermione grinned, "Hell hath no fury like a Roseby woman scorned." She added with a smirk Draco would have been proud of, as she left the office.

Taking a deep breath, and rearranging her face into a demure, happy smile, Hermione ascended the stairs and made her way to the formal sitting room on the first floor, where the interview was going to be held.

When she opened the door, she saw a dozen reporters sat around, with a handful of photographers, and sat on a couch, looking far too comfortable was Richard. Everyone looked up as the door opened.

"Sorry to keep you waiting everyone," Hermione said, addressing the press first, "Richard, what a pleasant surprise." She said, before turning back to the journalists gathered, "My parents will be along in about fifteen minutes – some business is holding them up, I apologise. Can I organise some refreshment while you wait?" She offered, though she knew full well they would have been seen to by the housemaid.

"We've been well taken care of all ready, Miss Granger," one of them said, "Perhaps we could start off asking you some questions before your parents arrive?" He suggested,

Hermione smiled genially, "Of course," she said, "If you wish, I shan't object to that." she declared, sitting next to Richard, the pieces of her plan falling perfectly into place.

"Now, Richard has become quite the social figure recently, but you have been completely off the radar, why is that?" the reporter asked, getting right down to business.

Hermione laughed, "I have been at school, up in a rather remote area of Scotland. The lessons are quite demanding, so I don't leave the premises much, I do a lot of studying." She explained.

"What classes do you take?" a female reporter asked.

Hermione thought quickly, "Chemistry," she said, thinking of potions, "Maths, Ancient Languages." She said, in place of Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. One of the journalists let out a low whistle,

"That's some serious education," he commented, to a general titter of amusement.

Hermione laughed good naturedly, "Hence the ridiculous amount of time I spend holed up in the Library." she joked.

"But when you're here, during your holidays, there have been a few snaps of the two of you together," another male journalist hedged, "You seem quite cosy together." He hinted, and Hermione laughed again.

"Richard and I have been close friends for a very long time." She explained, "A couple of years ago, we started to date, but then I went travelling for a year, and things have been so hectic since I returned," Hermione trailed off. "But I think he'll always be my friend. As I say we've always been close."

"So no Wedding bells on the future horizon?" a woman asked.

Hermione gave a small laugh, as if to dismiss the notion, but Richard spoke up, "Funny you should say that, actually."

Hermione's heart rate accelerated but she maintained a calm exterior: as much as she wanted to laugh at how perfect the conversation was going, she transformed herself into a look of polite confusion. "What are you talking about?" She asked, looking directly at Richard, as if she had no idea what was about to happen.

"I know this year has been hectic, and we've only been on a few dates, but what we have is built on a solid foundation that can only get stronger, I'm certain." Richard said as he pulled the ring box from his pocket and slipped off the couch onto one knee. There was a collective intake of breath from everyone else in the room, and the sound of cameras clicking filled the air. Hermione's face displayed only shock, her mouth falling open slightly in a convincing display.

"Richard," Hermione breathed with warning, fully investing herself in her role.

"Hermione Roseby-Granger, will you marry me?" Richard asked, lifting the lid off the box, to reveal the ruby ring.

Hermione bit her lip to stop her self from smirking. She kept her face strait, however, managing to show a good impression of discomfort. "I wish you had spoken to me of this, before." She said quietly, and she was happy to see Richard's smile falter slightly.

"If I did, it wouldn't be a surprise." He joked, trying to regain control of situation.

"Richard," Hermione said, shaking her head a little, and looking completely mortified, "I thought you knew. After our year apart, I thought you felt the same, that we're better as just friends. And regardless, I know we've been friends for a long time, I know my parents and yours have associated for a long time, but still." She let the sentence hang, as if searching for the right words, "We can't…" she tried, "We're different. Our families are…different." She never said anything about a class divide, she wouldn't be so crass as to say it so bluntly. But she certainly dropped heavy hints, hints she knew any good journalist would pick up on.

"I mean, you're…and I'm…" she trailed off, managing to look even more uncomfortable, despite how much she wanted to smirk and gloat in Richard's face.

The photographers were still taking photos and the journalists were taking hesitant notes, their eyes glued to the spectacle in front of them. Hermione bit her lip, she wanted so desperately to laugh, but she maintained her character. "I'm sorry, Richard," she breathed, standing up.

"Excuse me a moment," she said to the others in the room, before bolting out of the door, leaving Richard kneeling there looking like a fool. She made it up a flight of stairs before she let out the laugh desperately trying to escape. Doubled up with laughter, she held onto the banister as tears ran down her face. But she sobered quick enough as she heard a door slam from the floor below and furious footsteps coming up the stairs.

Hermione moved away from the banister, further down the corridor, she was only a few doors from her room when Richard's furious voice called out to her.

"I suppose you thought that was funny?" He demanded.

Hermione turned and gave him an insolent smile, "No," she said, "I thought it was hilarious. I told you not to embarrass me, I told you not to cross me. You ignored me." She reminded him.

"You've been planning this for months?" He asked, seething.

Hermione shrugged, "I've been planning my way out of the engagement for some time, but this just all fell into place. Like fate." She said.

Richard took a couple of furious steps forward, and Hermione took a couple of steps back. She had left her wand in her room, and suddenly felt slightly vulnerable, but she didn't let it show.

"Are you to blame for my business as well? Humiliating me in front of the press wasn't good enough for you, you had to undermine my business too." He asked.

Hermione frowned, completely lost, "What? What's wrong with your business, the bar is thriving, isn't it?" She asked.

"No." He shouted, "It took a nose dive after New Year." He told her through clenched teeth.

Hermione looked unconcerned, "Nothing to do with me. Maybe you should have stayed put at the bar that night, instead of leaving to fuck Melissa." She said with venom. "Don't expect me to feel guilty, about any of it. You told me you loved me, you wanted to marry me, but you were fucking Melissa behind my back, thinking I didn't have a clue. Well I knew, all of it. Now I've released you from your engagement, go marry her. I know she wont give you the connections you seem to need, but that's your problem not mine. And don't deny your continued affair, I know you were in a serious relationship with her before I returned, I know you went to her bed after we argued over summer, I know about New Years, I know about Valentines day and the roses: I know it all. So be honest for once in your life!" Hermione shouted; her rant had started calmly enough, but she had built up a head of steam and by the end of her tirade she was openly yelling at him.

"Oho," Richard said, beginning to turn red with rage, "You're one to talk about honesty." He seethed, "When you've been lying to me for _years_!" he yelled.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have time for this." Hermione said, "It's time you saw yourself out, and don't come back." She said, giving him a disgusted look, before turning around and continuing to her room. She had taken two steps when a vase exploded against the wall to her right.

"Don't you dare walk away from me!" Richard yelled, as Hermione whirled around, "We are not finished yet."

"Yes we are!" Hermione shouted back, "And could you please refrain from destroying my family heirlooms!"

"Oh, like that bothers you," Richard spat, "no doubt you can fix it with a spell, otherwise what the hell use is that school of yours!" he yelled,

"That's beside the point!" Hermione yelled, "That vase was an antique!" The anger suddenly fell from her face to be replaced by complete and utter shock as Richards words finally sunk in. "What did you say?" she breathed.

Richard scoffed, "You heard me. Give it up. _Be honest for once in your life_," he spat her own words back at her. "I know you're a witch."

Hermione simply stood there, breathing erratically, with no idea what to say in response to such a statemant.

###

When Hermione had left, Draco had dressed and apparated back to the Manor to shower and change. Just as he was about to disappearate back to Hermione's, there was a knock on his door.

With an exasperated sigh, he went to the door, muttering "stupid damn clock," under his breath as he went.

"Yes?" He asked his mother with a resigned smile, as soon as he opened the door.

"Good morning to you too." Narcissa smiled, "You didn't come home last night." She stated.

"No I didn't," Draco said, "is that all?"

Narcissa frowned, "Where were you?" she asked.

Draco sighed; his mother knew the answer, so why was she making him say it out loud? "I stayed at Hermione's." he said, "To make sure she was okay, after what happened." He didn't say anything about nightmares; it wasn't his place to tell. Hell, he hadn't even told his mother about his own nightmares, he wasn't going to tell her about someone else's.

"Is she alright?" Narcissa asked with concern, "After what happened?"

Draco smiled, "She's fine" he assured his mother, "But I have to get back, she's currently in a meeting with her parents, about the business. I would like to be there when she gets out, to see how it went. She was quite nervous." He didn't admit that he was nervous for her also: everything rested on this. His mother let him go without a further word, and Draco reappeared in Hermione's bedroom.

He made his way into her sitting room, to sit in front of the fire, picking up the book on the coffee table to pass the time. Every now and then he kept glancing at the clock, wondering how it was progressing. He finished the book just after eleven: her meeting would be done by now, the verdict given. She would be sitting down with journalists, Richard would be making his proposal again, but would she be accepting, or refusing? He didn't want to think about it, not until he had to, so he summoned the next book from Hermione's bedroom and carried on reading.

He had just finished the first chapter when he heard the crash of what sounded like breaking china, just down the hall. He stood with a frown, and made his way out into the hallway, where he saw Hermione and Richard stood a few paces apart, simply staring at each other. The tension in the air was palpable, as Draco walked up to them.

"This had better be good: they've just blown the horn three times, it's getting serious." He said, coming up behind Hermione. He could practically hear her eye roll at his comment, as Richard scoffed insolently at Draco.

"I should have known you would be around. What is it with you people? Do all you freaks have to stick in packs or something?" Richard snapped.

"Don't." Hermione seethed, "Don't you DARE call me a FREAK!" she yelled.

"What's going on?" Draco asked, fully taking in Hermione's ire and realising it was nothing he had seen before.

"He knows," she said looking up at him, Draco frowned and she elaborated, "He knows I'm a witch."

Draco looked back at Richard, "How?" he asked.

"How long?" Hermione added, looking back.

"Since you came back after your first year." Richard admitted, and Hermione's eyes widened.

"How?" She breathed again.

Richard sighed, "After you went to Scotland that first year, I was in my father's study, sat in the window seat hidden behind the curtain like I always used to do. They didn't know I was there. A couple of associates called by, and when my dad left to fetch drinks, they started talking, about really weird stuff. One of them had mentioned Hogwarts, they said something about seeing Dumble..someone." He said.

"Dumbledore," Hermione said tonelessly.

"Whatever," Richard snapped, "Said he wasn't worried about the break in over the summer, though it caused a lot of anxiety, I don't know. Then they started talking about some kid named Harry Potter, sounding far too excited about the guy, apparently he joined a house team, was the youngest player in a century, looked just like his dad. They sounded like they hero worshipped him or something." He spewed off, sounding irritated at every word he said.

Draco gave a laugh, "Yeah, them and everyone else." He muttered

Richard scowled at the interruption, and continued to address Hermione, "Imagine my surprise when you come home talking about your new best friend Harry Potter, and your Headmaster Dumbledore. I tried to ask you questions but you wouldn't tell. But when you went back: I had borrowed a book from you over the summer, I returned it to your sitting room, and my eye was caught by a book left on the coffee table. The title immediately captivated me."

"Hogwarts: A History." Hermione said ruefully, shaking her head. _Of course,_ she thought, "The only time I left it because it wouldn't fit in my trunk."

"I read it." Richard said, "Told me everything I needed to know."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Hermione asked after a moment. "I could have talked about everything, if I knew you already knew."

"I was hoping you would come to me, and share your secret. I thought you might be able to trust me." Richard said.

Hermione looked at him incredulously, "I _couldn't_" she said, "It's against the _law_. When I accepted my place, I accepted the responsibility of keeping the Wizarding world secret from all Muggles who didn't need to know. If I spoke of this to you, I would have broken that promise and broken the law. But if you had come to me – that was a loophole." she snapped, frustrated at Richard's stubbord idiocy.

"Well I know now," Richard said, "Why don't you tell me all about it."

Hermione looked at him and saw the small glimmer in his eye: it was a hopeful glimmer, the one Hermione had when magic was new and exciting to her too.

Hermione shook her head, "I can't. Because what I have to tell, you don't want to hear." She said honestly. Richard frowned, and Hermione expanded.

"Magic is new to you, despite that you've known about it's existence for years. You want to hear about my lessons: about brewing potions that can turn you into someone else – you don't want to hear that the transformation makes you feel like your skin is bubbling off your body in the most painful of ways. You want to hear about spells that can repair things, or make objects fly – you don't want to hear about the ones that cause you the most excruciating pain imaginable, spells that can torture you to insanity. You want me to tell you about the castle, with staircases that move and portraits that talk – you don't want to hear about the secret chamber that housed a monster that almost killed me in my second year, or how the castle was nearly completely destroyed last June at the culmination of a war we've just been fighting in." Hermione said.

"War?" Richard asked.

"Yes." Draco said tightly, "War. She's not being melodramatic; we were at war for a few years."

"Is that what you were doing when you disappeared for a year?" Richard asked, "Fighting in a war?"

"Yep." Hermione said shortly, "But I'm not talking to you about it. You need to be leaving." She reminded him, "Don't think I've forgotten everything you've done, in light of this new revelation. You need to leave, and never set foot in this place again. We are well and truly through." Hermione said turning her back on Richard once more.

"Before you go," Draco said suddenly, stopping Richard in his tracks, "How's the bar doing?" he asked with a smirk.

Hermione looked at him shrewdly, the cogs turning in her mind, thinking of what Richard had said earlier.

"You?" Richard said warily, his anger quickly retunring.

"What?" Draco asked with an innocence that didn't fool anyone.

"You bastard." Richard seethed.

"Something wrong? The last Hermione told me, it was going well." Draco said. "Though she hasn't mentioned anything since after Christmas." He said.

"Am I missing something?" Hermione asked, "What's going on?"

"I've been losing too much business." Richard said, "I've poured nearly my entire fortune into that place, and I'm getting nothing back." He snarled at Draco.

"That's surprising," Draco said, "According to your doorman, they're turning people away at the door." He smirked slyly.

"Which doorman?" Richard seethed, "who is working for you, is it Hopley or Goyle?" he demanded, but Draco only chuckled.

Hermione looked at Draco with a shocked laughed, "He doesn't mean-?" she started.

"The very same," Draco nodded, cutting her off before she could say which one. "Still a good friend, didn't return to school to do his NEWTs, lets face it, he's not the most intelligent, but he's not stupid. And he's loyal, especially to me." Draco explained quickly, before turning back to Richard.

"You know," Draco suggested, "If your bar is becoming such a drain on your limited resources, why don't you sell? I'm always looking for a new business opportunity."

Hermione smirked up at Draco, "How long have you been planning this?" She asked.

"Christmas Eve." He told her simply, laughing at her shock.

"Why?" Growled Richard,

"Remember that line I said you had crossed? At the Grangers' Christmas party? That's why." Draco smiled. "You angered me. You made yourself my enemy, and I've been looking to ruin you ever since. Your blatant disrespect toward Hermione was the main incentive. I told you to treat her right, you did the opposite, and this is the result." Draco said.

Richard looked set to explode, and after a second of silent seething he did. He launched himself at Draco it a fit of rage. Draco shoved Hermione to the side, out of harms way, as Richard's fist swiped across to make contact with Draco's face.

"Richard!" Hermione screamed, "What is the matter with you?!"

"He has no decorum," Draco growled, retaliating with punch into Richards gut, followed by an upper cut to the chin, before pushing him away, flinging him to the ground, and straightening his shirt, "it's to be expected with his kind. New money never have the proper sense of what civilised society is actually like."

Hermione laughed in spite of the situation, as her parents came to the top of the stairs, "What the hell is going on up here?" Anthony demanded, taking in the scene, and stopping Richard in his track as he made to attack Draco again, after just getting back on his feet. Hermione went to Draco's side, looking up him with concern: his nose was bleeding, and when she wiped her thumb across his lips to remove the blood, it was immediately replaced with fresh.

"Richard was just leaving." Hermione said coldly, without looking at him.

"Too right he is." Anthony said, having taken in the scene and processed the situation correctly. Victoria came over to her daughter's side and handed Draco a handkerchief.

"Thank you," Draco said, somewhat thickly, stemming the flow of blood, "I apologise for what you've just witnessed. That should not have happened, not in you're home. I''m terribly sorry."

"Don't apologise," Hermione snapped with a frown, "You did nothing but defend me, it's Richard who should apologise, until he's blue in the god-damned face."

"Hermione we need to return downstairs," Victoria said tentatively.

"Go," Draco said, "I'll be fine. I can't say the same for Richard if he shows his face again, though." He added.

Hermione laughed, "Sure?" she asked, and when he nodded she continued, "ok, go back to my sitting room an wait for me there."

"No." Victoria said, having watched the pair's exchange extremely closely, taking in Draco's hand still resting on Hermione's hip as if it was the most natural think in the world, and Hermione's hand resting gently on his shoulder.

"Mother-" Hermione began, turning to glare at Victoria.

"Clean yourself up," Victoria said to Draco, ignoring her daughter's glare, "And then make your way to the library, help yourself to a glass of whiskey, I think you've earned it." She said, much to the surprise of both Hermione and Draco.

"Thank you, Mrs Granger." Draco said politely, "But I would hate to intrude, I know you have company."

"Nonsense. We'll be doing the main part of the interview in the drawing room below. We will probably take a couple of them on a tour of the principle rooms at some point, but you won't be intruding. Hermione shouldn't be hiding you away in her room: you are a friend, here at her invitation, you may as well relax in comfort." Victoria said before turning back to the staircase.

Hermione gave Draco a reassuring smile, "I guess I'll see you in the library." she said, "I'm sorry, I have to go. Are you-?"

"Go do your duty." Draco said, gently pushing her away with a smile, "I'll be fine. I have an excellent book to read."

Hermione smiled and made to follow her mother down the stairs. When they were halfway down, and Victoria was certain of being out of hearing range from anyone she asked her daughter, slyly and quietly: "Was there another reason why you were so hell bent on dissolving the engagement?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows, "Is it not enough that the guy was a lying man-whore? Do I automatically have to be involved in a ridiculous love scandal as well? I swear mother, you're almost as bad as the people at Witch Weekly." She scolded.

Victoria looked at her confused, "Witch Weekly?" she questioned, "Is that a magazine? Paper?"

"Don't go there, Mother, I am begging you." Hermione said, and something in her face caused her mother to laugh.

"Oh dear, you don't like them?" Victoria hedged.

"It's full of ridiculous gossip, and once something has been printed in that magazine it will spread through Hogwarts quicker than rats spread a plague." Hermione stated.

"Speaking from experience?" Victoria quizzed.

"Unfortunately," Hermione admitted, adding: "I may have downplayed my role in the war to you, just a little bit. I'm a bit of a celebrity in my own right, in the Wizarding World. I've had enough publicity to last me a lifetime."

"You should have said, if I had known-" Victoria started, but Hermione cut her off just as they got to the door of Drawing.

"Oh no. I wouldn't have forgone this little gem of a morning. I don't mind an interview that is completely in my control. It's speculations that irritate." Hermione said, before returning into the clutches of the journalists for a tedious couple of hours of questions, questions and more questions.

After a couple of hours simply sitting and talking about their family life, their business and their plans for the future, Hermione and her parents gave a tour of the house, posing for photographs in the odd room here and there, and answering the odd question about the house's history. Eventually they ended the tour in the Library.

"This is without a doubt, my favourite room in the house," Hermione said, as they all entered. She saw Draco sat in an armchair next to the fire, book in hand, looking completely relaxed. He glanced up as the large party entered, and Hermione gave him a smile.

"I apologise," Draco said standing up, "I can leave if I'm in the way."

Hermione shook her head, "Nonsense, you should stay." She said, before turning back to the journalists, "This is Draco Malfoy, a good friend of mine, from school."

"Are you local, Mr Malfoy?" A man asked casually.

"No, sir. I live in Wiltshire." Draco answered politely, with a smile, "I'm here in York for a couple of days, and I took the liberty of calling here, I didn't realise you would all be here, I'm sorry to intrude."

"Nonsense," Victoria chimed in, echoing her daughter's earlier words. "It's not an intrusion, any friend of Hermione's is certainly welcome here."

"You certainly looked very at home when we came in," a female journalist pointed out, "have you been here often?" She asked sugestively.

Hermione laughed, "I'm sure this room feels incredibly _cozy_ for him. His library is about three times as big as this one, I'm sure." She joked.

Draco shrugged, "The Small Library is about this size." He said with a smirk, Hermione simply rolled her eyes at him.

Another man spoke up, "What brings you up to York?" He asked.

"Business." Draco said simply, "My family an I are always looking for ways to expand our franchise. But I don't want to steel anyone's thunder, you're here to learn about the Roseby-Granger family franchise." He said with a smile at Hermione who had just perched on the arm of his chair.

Hermione shrugged, "The Malfoy's run a large estate, and also have a couple of vineyards in Italy." She said to the group, "Very successful family, but surprisingly modest." She added.

"Is that so?" a woman asked, intrigued. "How big of an Estate do you run, if you don't mind me asking?"

Draco nodded, "The family estate covers 35,000 acres. We farm a fair amount of the land, and it pays well for itself – you may not realise but a lot of your produce probably comes from my estate: fruits, vegetables, cheeses for example; we do a lot. But my family are very private, our name doesn't appear on anything, so you'd never know. As Hermione said, we have vineyards in Italy, there is also an opportunity of purchasing another in France." He said honestly.

There were a few startled looks about the room that were quickly smoothed out: clearly no one had anticipated just how wealthy he was when they had first laid eyes on him. Hermione couldn't help but smile; she could practically hear their brains ticking over the speculation of pairing her off with such a superior gentleman, after she had just rejected a mediocre man in front of them.

"You mentioned you were here on business?" someone asked, "Can we ask how you are planning to expand your franchise?"

"Certainly." Draco smiled, he had been hoping they would ask him this, "I hear there's a bar about to come on the market – quite a unique place. I know the bar manager there, and he says the current owner is losing a lot of money. It's just draining his resources. But with the right handling I think I could turn it into a sound investment. In fact," he said suddenly, turning to Hermione, "You might know more about the situation, I believe you're acquainted with the owner? I met him here on Christmas Eve. Alden his name is." He said, acticng as if he had no idea about the scandal that had recently happened.

Draco's facial expression never changed, but his eyes sparkled with mischief and Hermione tried not to laugh as she nodded.

"Yes, but we'll not talk about that right now. It's a little bit of an awkward subject at the moment." Hermione said, and Draco feigned confusion perfectly.

"I'm sorry, should I not have brought that up?" he asked.

"It's fine," Hermione said, turning her attention fully back to the journalists, "Are there any more questions?" she smiled, resisting the urge to laugh. She had thought her revenge had been complete earlier, but Draco's little addition truly capped it off nicely. For once in her life, Hermione couldn't wait to see her name in print.

* * *

**_A/N: So, there you have it, as ever please leave me a review, let me know what you thought._**

**_With regards to the size of the Malfoy Manor estate, I've based it on Chatsworth House, perhaps JKR intended it to bigger? I don't know, but Chatsworth seemed like a good size._**

**_I'll hopefully have the next chapter ready to go at some point next week :)_**

**_xBx_**


	29. Chapter 29: The Truth is Out

_**A/N: Finally! Another chapter is ready, sorry about the delay, this one took a while to get right, but I think I did it.**_

_**Thanks for all my reviews for the last chapter, you guys are awesome! and now, I'll let you read.**_

_**xBx**_

* * *

~ **Chapter 29: The Truth is Out ~**

The rest of Hermione's holiday was ridiculously mundane compared to that first Tuesday. Hermione saw little of Draco, who became immersed in some business, or other, that he never really talked about – not that they spent much time talking whenever Draco stopped by her room usually well into the night. Despite the lateness of the hours in which he called, Draco never found Hermione sleeping: After spending so much time focusing on the business, Hermione had slightly neglected her schoolwork and now she was making up for it.

On the final Friday before Hermione was due to return to Hogwarts, she allowed herself the day off from business and study and had agreed to join Harry for lunch, who was meeting Dudley and Beth in York.

For the first time since they had met, Hermione had invited Harry to her home, and at eleven thirty Hermione opened the front door to see Harry looking slightly bemused.

"Harry!" Hermione smiled, giving him a customary hug, "Come in, I'm nearly ready: My parents just want me to sign some things before we leave." She said, stepping back to allow Harry to enter.

"Jeez Hermione," Harry said, "You really were holding out on us. You really are rich."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "My _parents_ are rich." She clarified, causing Harry to laugh.

"You've just proven my point: Only rich people say that." Harry joked, taking in his surroundings, and shaking his head slowly. "Seriously, Hermione, why did you keep this from us for so long? You belong to a whole other level of society I can't even begin to understand."

"You've just answered your own question." Hermione said simply, with an almost sad smile. "You and Ron were the first real friends that I had ever had – I was never naïve as a child, I couldn't fail to notice that people were a lot nicer to me _after_ they learnt of my fortune, I know I'm not the easiest person to get along with, what with my bossy know-it-all personality. But you two were different: you had no idea about my wealthy background; you took the time to get to know me, just me, without judging me for my background." Hermione shrugged, "I didn't want you to think differently of me, or start treating me weird because of money." She said truthfully.

Harry nodded, he had a shrewd idea of what she was talking about: there were so many times he wanted to be someone else, so that people would get to know him for him and not 'the boy who lived'.

"In spite of that," Harry said, smiling slightly, "You realise when Ginny sees this place, she is going to kill you for keeping her out of it for so long, despite your justifiable reasons. And I believe it's about time _you_ host a party don't you think? I mean, the space might be a little tight…" He joked.

Hermione laughed, and gave him a playful swat on the arm. "Give me five minutes and we can leave." She said turning back into the office. When she came back out ten minutes later, she and Harry retreated back out of the front door, where a car was waiting for them.

"Seriously?" Harry asked, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" Hermione said, "There is nowhere for us to apparate in the middle of York, and I can't drive. Do you want to walk? By all means do, I'll tell Dudley and Beth they'll see you in five hours." Hermione said, marching to the car and getting in, apologising to the driver for keeping her waiting.

Harry remained silent until they were on their way, "So, you've had an eventful holiday, according to Witch Weekly," he said eventually, quietly, so that only Hermione could here.

"I had a feeling they'd get that scoop quick enough," Hermione laughed, "Go on then, tell me the worst: what do they say – and how many photographs have they managed to get their hands on?" She asked.

"No new ones, they reused some from the previous article." Harry said, addressing her last question first, "But they managed to get wind of your little family press conference with the Muggles. Congratulations on your investment, by the way." He grinned, and then continued slowly, "And commiserations about the ending of your relationship with Richard." He hedged with a small grin, at which Hermione laughed, "That must have been mortifying for him." Harry said.

"I believe it was." Hermione agreed, "But the bastard had it coming. And I did warn him, it's not my fault he didn't listen." She added.

Harry gave her a shrewd look, "Have you always been like this?" He asked suddenly, "Or is this a result of prolonged exposure to certain Slytherins?"

Hermione laughed, "Perhaps it is a bit of both." She admitted, "I suppose I have always been like this, just repressed it. The Rosebys – and now the Roseby-Grangers – have always had to watch their backs, or more particularly their fortune. There is always someone, somewhere, who will want to take it however they can, want to help themselves to our name and what it brings. You've just got stay one step ahead of them. It's like a game, and we all have it in us to play it, you just have to find the player inside you." Hermione said.

"I feel a little out of my depth, with the riddles." Harry said after a moment, "Keep me out of the game, please."

Hermione laughed, "Perhaps you're already a player, you just don't know it yet." Hermione teased.

"Seriously, stop it." Harry said again, "You need to spend more time with Ron and I. Draco Malfoy is turning you into a Slytherin, and I don't like it." He told her, though he smiled as he spoke, and Hermione knew it was meant in jest.

"Somehow, I doubt even he could turn me into a Slytherin. I'm a proud Gryffindor, that will never change." Hermione assured him.

"Speaking of Malfoy," Harry said, his teasing grin returning, that left a foreboding feeling in Hermione's stomach, "It seems he's been accepted into your family fold: apparently congratulations are in order for an impending engagement." He joked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Seriously? Are they not happy unless I'm attached to someone?" she asked incredulously.

Harry shrugged, "They already printed about your relationship, it's nothing new. They know he's been to your home before and now he ends up being part of the _family_ interviews you gave? Put it all together and it looks like a serious relationship." He hedged.

Hermione chewed her lip, she couldn't deny the truth of it. "I think it might be." She admitted with a small smile.

Harry nodded thoughtfully, and then suddenly grinned. "Good luck telling Molly." He said patting her leg, "I don't think she's fully given up on you and Ron. And then of course there's the history between the Weasleys and the Malfoys." He said, his grin widening, "So yeah. Good luck." He repeated.

Hermione laughed good-naturedly, giving Harry a playful elbow to the ribs as they reached their destination. When the left the car, Hermione led Harry through a serious of streets to their final destination where Dudley and Beth were already waiting for them.

"Sorry we kept you waiting," Hermione smiled, giving Beth a hug, as Harry shook his cousins hand.

"Don't worry about it," Dudley said with a smile, "You're a busy woman now, apparently."

Harry laughed, but Hermione refrained from comment until they were seated at a table. "So, how have you been?" She asked, after ordering their meal.

Beth grinned, "So we're just going to skip right over the fact that your name and pictures are in every magazine we open this week?" she asked.

"Apparently not." Hermione said, "That was out quick." She commented.

"It's a good scoop – I suppose with you being so cut off from everyone up in Scotland, you don't realise how well known your parents are do you?" Dudley asked, seriously. "I mean, from what Harry has said, you were with your parents over the summer even less than Harry was with us, on a few occasions – you've probably never read a muggle magazine for years have you?" He asked, knowingly.

Hermione thought about it a moment, and realised he was right: for years now, Hermione had been almost completely submerged in the Wizarding world, more so than she had really believed. True, she would see her parents every summer, for a few weeks, but she never ventured far from home.

"I never really thought…" Hermione trailed off quietly.

Beth chuckled, "Well, in your absence your parents are always having fundraisers, and parties. In business circles they are highly regarded. It's thanks to them that the Alden's have risen over the years." She explained, before chewing her lip and grinning, "I have to ask, did you really have no idea that Richard was planning to propose?"

Hermione grinned a little and took a sip of her drink, pointedly avoiding the question. Both Beth and Dudley looked to Harry, and Hermione saw him give a quick shake of his head, to which the others laughed.

"Okay, now_ I_ have to ask," Dudley said, "What did the poor guy do to deserve such a brutal destruction on so many levels?" he asked.

"You don't want to know," Hermione said, "It's a long story." She said, before adding, "I owe you a huge thank you, by the way." She said, looking at Beth, "All the research you did for me, you literally saved my future. I can't thank you enough."

Beth smiled, "You're very welcome. Glad I could help. It was actually kind of fun," She admitted, hesitantly, "I actually took it a little bit further, and started redesigning the space in a little bit more detail, than I sent you." She said.

"How much more detail?" Hermione asked, grinning.

"I have some very specific plans drawn up," Beth admitted, sounding slightly apologetic. "I couldn't help myself, it was so enticing, and I got a bit carried away."

"I'd love to see them, if you still have them?" Hermione said truthfully, appreciating Beth's passion for her studies. "Because I honestly would not have a clue where to start."

Beth grinned again, "Really? I don't have them on me right now, but I could send you them, or bring them to you this weekend at some point?" she suggested.

"It's a date." Hermione said. Through lunch, the four chatted amiably about general topics, and no one pestered Hermione further about the interview she and her family had given the previous week. When lunch had been eaten and paid for, and the four left the restaurant, Beth spoke hesitantly.

"Are we anywhere near Monde Caché?" She asked Hermione.

"Erm, quite near, yes. Why?" Hermione asked warily.

"It's probably the last place you want to go, but I'd love to check it out." Beth admitted, "We don't have to, is it even open this early?" she asked.

Hermione shrugged, "I honestly have no idea." She admitted, "Richard never mentioned opening times. And if he's really struggling for custom, he may only open on nights now, keep running costs dowd, so I have no idea."

"Monde Caché?" Harry asked.

"Richard's cocktail bar," Hermione said, "It's French for 'hidden world'." She gave a small laugh, "I'm totally reading into that completely differently now. Never mind." She added, taking in the confused looks.

"It is rather a cool place," Hermione admitted after a moment, "If it's open, we should go have a cocktail." She decided, leading the group to the riverfront.

As they stepped down to make their way to the door that stood open, their way was blocked by a tall figure emerging from the place, and Hermione was surprised when she recognised him.

"Draco! What are you doing here?" She asked.

"What are you doing here?" He replied with a raised eyebrow, "I thought you'd want to avoid this place like the plague."

Hermione shrugged, "Beth was curious about the place, and Matt makes the best cocktails in the city." She said, and was surprised to see Draco smirk.

"For you, yes. But for everyone else, not so much." He said evasively, causing Hermione to narrow her eyes.

"What does that mean?" She asked, "Do you know Matt?" she asked.

"Who is Matt?" Harry asked, not one for being left out of the loop for too long.

"The bar manager." Hermione explained, "Great guy, and very good at his job."

"He is," Draco said, "Unless he has good reason not to be." He smirked again.

"Okay, I'm a little lost here," Dudley said, "Are we missing something?" He asked.

"I think we all are." Hermione said, a frown developing on her forehead as her hands went to her hips clearly telling Draco he had a limited time to start explaining before the wrath of Hermione Granger was unleashed upon him.

Draco was about to respond, but was prevented by someone else exiting the building, looking less than happy. When he spotted the group, in particular Hermione, he cursed before addressing her.

"I might have known you would be here." Richard spat, "Come to see the crowning glory of your master plan?" he mocked.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, "I honestly have no idea what you're talking about, Richard." She told him calmly, taking a cautious step back, her arms falling back to her sides.

"The hell you do, you vindictive bitch!" He shouted. Causing both Harry and Draco to turn on him. Before either of them could do anything, however, a burly hand grabbed Richards shoulder from behind, steering them away from the group.

"I think it's time you left, sir. Before you do something you'll regret." A gruff voice intoned, and Hermione couldn't help but chuckle when she recognised the man.

"Goyle?!" Harry said incredulously, when he too recognised the figure, "What the hell-?"

"He's a bouncer here." Draco said quickly, Cutting Harry off before he could finish his question, "Why don't we take this inside?" he added pointedly, turning back into the bar, and the others followed.

The Bar was incredibly quiet, only a couple of people sat at one of the tables, enjoying a quiet lunch. Hermione made her way directly to the bar. Her encounter with Richard, though brief, had left her a little shaky, and she decided the imminent conversation would probably go down better _after_ she had a cocktail inside her.

"Hey, Hermione." Matt greeted with a large smile, "I didn't think I'd see you here yet."

"I wasn't planning on coming, but my friends wanted to see the place." She said. Before grinning, "What have you got for me today?" she asked, as was their routine.

"I love it when you come in," Matt said, returning the grin, and reaching for some bottles. "I've been working on something a little different, let me know what you think." He said. "Go sit down, I'll bring them over. Cocktails for you guys?" He asked, addressing Harry and Dudley, "Or beer? Or both?"

"Just beer, will be fine for us I think." Dudley said, and Harry nodded.

Hermione turned to Draco, "Right, please explain what's going on." She said, as he led them to the VIP tables. When Draco went up the steps, Hermione stopped, the whole routine feeling entirely too familiar.

"Oh God." She said, "You've bought it, haven't you?" she asked. Draco looked back and grinned.

"I've been negotiating all week, he signed it over today." Draco said, "Now are you going to come and sit down, or not?" he asked. Harry, Dudley and Beth walked past Hermione to take their seats, but Hermione continued to look at Draco.

"How?" She asked, "Why?"

Draco gave an exasperated sigh, "For Salazar's sake, woman, sit and I'll explain." He said, waiting for Hermione to take her seat before he took his own. Hermione frowned at being spoken to in such a way, but Draco didn't budge, and finally Hermione caved, her curiosity winning over her stubbornness.

As soon as the were sat, Draco set about his explanation, "I bought it because it's a good business opportunity. And because I've been planning it since New Years." He told them, just as Matt came over with a tray of drinks.

He hung around as Hermione took a sip of her drink, a smug smile on his face, as he waited for her opinion.

"Oh my God." Hermione said, "This is great." She told him.

"I know." Matt grinned, "I'm a genius. You can tell me."

Beth, who had just taken a sip of her own, asked: "If you're cocktails are this good, how is it the place has been failing to pull in the money?" Beth shrugged when she saw the questioning looks she was getting, "It was in a magazine." She told them.

"Because Matt has been having some off days." Draco smirked.

"More like some off months." Matt said, "But I think I'm miraculously cured now. You'll never have an imperfect drink from me again." He told them.

"Why were you sabotaging the bar?" Hermione asked.

"Because Richard is a prick, who has no idea how to run a place like this." Matt said, "And because I like you, I always have. We've got on well, and I respect you. I knew what went down New Years Eve, and I knew that you knew too, which is why I didn't tell you. I figured you'd deal with it your own, and you wouldn't want anyone to bring it up." He admitted, and Hermione was surprised by how well he knew her.

"I gave a lot of free drinks out that night though, Richard didn't make as much money as he had hoped. And then Draco comes along – he'd been in a few times in the beginning of January, and noticed what I was doing. Giving out free drinks here and there, to put a dint in the takings. He asked what I was doing, we soon discovered we had a mutual dislike of Alden, and the rest is history." Matt said.

Hermione looked at Draco, silently asking him to expand, so he obliged. "I knew you would get your own revenge on Richard for what he did, but I also knew you would only go so low. He'd angered me at Christmas, and New Years severely pissed me off-"

The other three were watching the conversation progress intently, and Hermione heard Beth whisper to Harry, "What happened at New Years?" But Harry just shook his head, wanting to listen to the rest of Draco's explanation.

"I decided he needed to be taught a lesson, he needed to be crippled right where it hurt. I knew he was going to loose you, but I wanted him to loose everything. So I made friends with Matt, and told him my plans to buy this place at a steal. He's been making sure the bar loses money consistently, in a variety of ways, since January. I suggested Goyle to him, as a good bouncer, and he's been sending people away, stopping them from even coming here. We knew Richard had a hefty fortune, but he couldn't keep putting it into a bottomless pit forever: it's just not good business. Soon enough, his father was on him for bad investments and persuaded him to sell. I was here waiting, and after a few tantrums, I now own it." Draco finished his explanation.

"Oh, and don't worry," Matt said, "Richard is barred from the premises. You can freely enjoy yourself here, without worrying about running into him." He assured. "And I hope you'll be here tomorrow?" He added, "Re launch party."

"Isn't it a bit short notice?" Hermione asked, then rolled her eyes when she noticed the look the two men shared, "You've been planning it all week anyway, so no doubt you've already spread the word." She answered her own question.

"She knows us too well," Matt said to Draco, patting him on the shoulder before making his way back behind the bar. The four sat silently for a moment, quietly sipping their drinks, Hermione drinking in the information she had been given.

Harry was the first to speak, "That was a little bit underhand, don't you think?" he said, and Hermione let out a laugh – Trust Harry to think about the ethics of the situation.

Draco frowned, "Underhand?" he repeated, "Have you forgotten you're talking to a Slytherin? Believe me Potter, that doesn't even scratch the surface of underhand." He drawled.

"And are you really complaining?" Hermione said, "After what Richard did to me, you're objecting about less than ethical means employed to take this away from him?" She asked. "I just wish I'd had the time and money to do it myself."

"Thought you'd say that," Draco grinned, "If you don't mind, I need some signatures from you." He said.

Hermione looked more resigned than confused and irate – the cocktail was apparently rather a strong one, and with the calming influence of her friends and alcohol it was hard to get defensive.

"Whatever for?" Hermione asked, "What the hell do I have to do now?"

Draco chuckled, waved his wand, and made a pile of official looking papers appear in front of Hermione. She picked them up, frowning as she read, before her eyes widened a little, clearly stunned.

"This is why Richard thought I was in on it from the start?" She breathed, taking in the words in front of her, and then looking up at Draco, who gave her a small smile, and a half-hearted shrug but didn't say anything.

Hermione felt, rather than saw, Harry lean in to sneak a look at the papers. His eyes widened the same way Hermione's did.

"What is it?" Hissed Beth, clearly not liking being kept in the dark any more than Harry did.

"He's named her as co-owner." Harry said loud enough for the whole group to hear "Equal partner in the business."

"Why…?" Hermione whispered, not able to fully form the sentence.

Draco shrugged, and rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable about discussing all his reasons with an audience whose heads were snapping back and forth with their mouths hanging slightly open.

"Because you deserve to reap the benefits from Richard's downfall," Draco started, "Because I'm sure I could benefit from your help on this one." He cleared his throat, "And because I only did this for you, anyway, so you might as well be part of it." He admitted quickly, determinedly not looking at the others and hating that Potter was witnessing this admission.

"Awww," Beth smiled finding the entire thing romantic, causing Draco to turn and glare at her, which quickly wiped the smile from her face. "I'm going to get a refill, come on boys." She said quickly, realising that Draco and Hermione might want to have this moment alone. The boys followed immediately, leaving them in silence.

"If you don't want to-" Draco started, but Hermione cut him off with a smile.

"Get me a pen." She said simply, holding out her hand, causing Draco to grin.

###

The following afternoon, her school friends invaded Hermione's house: Hermione had returned with Harry to Grimmauld Place after their afternoon in York, and had told Ginny and Ron about the surprising turn of events and the re-launch party, inviting them both along. Ginny had then taken it upon herself to extend the invitation to Blaise, Emmy, Neville, Luna, Dean, Seamus, Parvati and Padma. And as a result, they were now all stood in Hermione's entrance hall, looking about them with wide eyes and slightly open mouths.

"Bloody hell." Ron had said a total of five times now.

"This place is amazing." Ginny said, before hitting Hermione on the arm, "Why did you keep it from me for so long?" She demanded.

"Because this doesn't make me who I am," Hermione said, trying to explain as honestly as she could, "You guys all got to know the real me, you're my friends, despite my difficult temperament." She told them, "I didn't want _this_ to change our friendship."

"We'd still be friends with you." Emmy assured her.

"We'd just have learnt to tolerate you a hell of a lot quicker, if we'd known." Blaise admitted, earning himself a glare from Hermione, a slap from Ginny, but a laugh from Seamus and Harry.

"I suppose you want a tour?" Hermione said, trying to move the conversation along. At the collective nod, she took her friends over the ground and first floor, Introducing them all to her parents, who were more than happy to open their home to their daughter's friends.

She then left the boys in the Billiards Room to amuse themselves, while she and the girls went to her room. As Ginny and Luna were the only purebloods out of the girls, they were the only two who didn't have something appropriate to wear to a Muggle bar, so Hermione had offered to let them borrow something from her extensive wardrobe.

"Woah," Parvati said, as they entered Hermione's sitting room, "Telling us your rooms at Hogwarts were a little bit smaller than at home was a bit of an understatement. This is huge!" She said.

"And the completely wrong colour scheme." Ginny said indignantly as Hermione led them into her bedroom. "What the hell is this, Granger?" she demanded, "Where's your Gryffindor pride?"

Hermione laughed, "I had the room done like this when I was nine." She said, for what felt like the hundredth time, "Before I even knew about Hogwarts. Don't judge me." She joked, walking toward her closet, "Now, do you want something to wear or not?"

After an hour spent in Hermione's closet, the girls went back to the Billiards Room, and Hermione took them back downstairs, and down into the cellar room.

"I have to say, Hermione," Ron said, as they entered the kitchen, "I find it a little creepy that your taking us down to hang out in your cellar."

Hermione frowned at him, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't you and Harry always eat in the cellar?" she asked.

"We eat in the kitchen." Ron said.

"Which is where?" Hermione pointed out. Ron had no answer to that, so Hermione continued to lead the way with a smug look on her face. When everyone was served a drink, Emmy asked, "So when are we going, wherever we're going?"

Hermione checked to clock, "I've organised a couple of cars to pick us up in an hour. We're just waiting on a couple more to get here." She said, just as the door to the cellar opened, and the two people in question came down the stairs.

"Well, this place is a lot less creepy than your place, cuz." Dudley said, after greeting the room in general. "Though I was slightly unnerved to be shown to the cellar by a complete stranger."

Hermione laughed, "But it's a very cosy cellar." She countered, before getting Dudley and Beth some drinks.

"I brought those sketches for you," Beth said, as Hermione handed her a glass, "You don't have to look at them now, but I thought I could leave them with you."

"No, lets look," Hermione grinned, "come over to the table," She said, moving to the large scrubbed wooden table, away from everyone else who was gathered around the couches. Beth withdrew some papers from her purse, and laid them out across the table, taking Hermione through each one, for each property she had looked at.

"These are great, Beth." Hermione said, "I wouldn't have had the imagination to figure all this out." She thought for a moment, "Beth, what are you doing this summer?" She asked.

"Looking for some form of work, to earn some money to see me through next year." She said.

"How would you like to work for the Roseby-Granger franchise?" Hermione asked in all seriousness, but Beth laughed.

"Right, because your parents will want to hire a rookie who hasn't even go her degree yet." She joked.

"I have an equal say," Hermione reminded her, "I'm going to be taking care of the expansion, while my parents keep focus on the current clinics. You've already put a lot of work into this, and I wouldn't be in this position if it wasn't for you." Hermione told her truthfully, "I'm going to have a lot to juggle from now on, what with the clinics and the bar, as well as working at the Ministry. I want someone who knows what they're doing, and someone who I can trust: You've got a knack for this, what you've shown me is great. Would you be able to bring it to fruition?" Hermione asked her seriously.

Beth looked a little blindsided, but she nodded, "Yes, I could, with the right budget. I know how to negotiate, I can do development from start to finish – I haven't done commercial property, but throughout college I helped my parents with their property developments. We've worked on a number of places up and down the country, so I've got some good contacts, I know some good workers." She said, "Are you seriously offering me a job?" she asked, not quite daring to believe it.

Hermione smiled, just as her father came down the stairs, "Father," she smiled, beckoning him over.

"The cars are here, are you ready to go?" Anthony said.

"In a moment, look at this." Hermione said, "Remember the properties I showed you in Nottingham? Beth found them for me, and she's drawn up some ideas on how to renovate the spaces. What do you think?" She asked.

Anthony scrutinised the papers closely, nodding his head slowly, "Impressive." He said, "costs?" he asked, looking at Beth, who pulled some papers in front of Anthony, which detailed the basic figures.

"That's just an estimate for a basic renovation of the floor space, reworking the electrics, things like that. It doesn't include the furnishings, that would depend on what suppliers you would use." Beth said.

"Beth is studying property development, she's coming to the end of her first year. And I've just offered her a job." Hermione told her father, "I need her, if we're going to do this right: she found the properties, she has the ideas, she knows what she's doing. And she won't charge extortionate fees." Hermione added.

"We'll have to have a proper discussion," Anthony said, "Discuss job details and payment. But Hermione is going to be running the expansion and if she says she needs you, then welcome to the company." He said, holding out his hand to a thoroughly stunned Beth.

"Thank you?" Beth said, taking the hand, her thanks coming out as a question due to her complete surprise at the situation. "Did that just happen?" she asked, after Anthony left.

Hermione smiled, "That just happened." She assured her, "And now we have to go, otherwise we're going to be late." Hermione said, calling out to the rest of the group, telling them to finish up and move out.

By the time they reached the bar, the place was already starting to fill. Draco was stood on the near side of the bar, welcoming guests and playing the perfect host, but excused himself as soon as her spotted Hermione.

"Being a loyal Gryffindor this evening, I see?" He smirked as he came up to her taking in her red dress, while the rest of the group made their way to the bar to sample some cocktails.

Hermione shrugged, "I thought it would be an appropriate colour to wear. The Daily Prophet will no doubt have someone here; it will make a statement that I'm still the Gryffindor Princess." She said, "It will work in your favour, too. Show that our differences don't get in the way."

Draco smiled, "Do you analyse everything?" he asked, causing her to laugh, "But regardless, you look beautiful." He told her, placing his hands on her waist and pulling him to her, to give her a gentle, but deep, kiss in the lips.

"Heh-hem." The sound of a man clearing his throat separated the pair immediately. And Hermione saw her parents standing by them.

Hermione grinned sheepishly, "Forgot you would be right behind us," She said as Draco shook hands with her father and mother.

"Thanks for coming, Mr and Mrs Granger. It means a lot." Draco said truthfully.

"Of course we'd be here," Victoria said with a smile, "I hope you two have better luck with this venture than Richard did."

Hermione and Draco shared a knowing look and smiled, "Somehow, I think we will." Hermione said.

The night turned into a raging success: Both Muggle and Wizarding press were present (Though only those with magic in their veins were aware of it.); the place was more crowded than it had ever been, and bar sales went through the roof. While Draco and Hermione held back with their consumption of champagne and cocktails, their friends didn't show the same discretion and it was like New Years all over again.

When Hermione returned to Hogwarts the next day, she joined Ginny at the Gryffindor table looking slightly the worse for wear, and only marginally less pale than Neville and Dean.

"How was the train journey back?" Hermione asked, taking a seat. Ginny simply groaned, which made Hermione chuckle.

"Train journeys and hangovers don't mix." Neville said.

"I have no sympathy, it was self-inflicted." Hermione said, helping herself to some steak and ale pie and potatoes. "You all knew you had that journey ahead of you, but it didn't stop you." She scolded light-heartedly.

"How come you're not hung over?" Dean asked, "I distinctly remember you dancing with us well into the early hours."

Hermione laughed, "I was, but I didn't drink as much as you guys because I knew I had a busy day today." She told them, "I'm exhausted, my feet are killing me and everything aches. But I'm not hung over."

"Busy how?" Ginny asked.

"Meetings." Hermione said, between mouthfuls of food. "One with my parents and Beth, this morning, drawing up a contract. Beth is going to start negotiating on a property in Nottingham for us, so hopefully by the time exams are over I will have a new clinic to start working on. And then this afternoon, we had a big staff meeting at Monde Caché – lots of things to smooth over. Then when I got back here, Draco and I had to meet with McGonagall about getting special permission to leave the grounds every Sunday, so that we can do weekly staff meetings at the bar." Hermione sighed, "I've done a lot of talking today, it's surprisingly exhausting." She finished.

###

The following weeks were chaos like Hermione and Draco had never known: while their weekdays were consumed with revision for their upcoming NEWTs, their weekends were consumed with business. After lessons, the heads tower was always crowded with the now solid friendship group that had strengthened throughout the year, studying in a variety of ways, from simple reading to pop quizzes. But every Saturday, the rest of the group would relocate to the library, leaving Hermione and Draco alone to prepare themselves for their staff meeting at their bar, as well as doing whatever needed to be done for their other own business ventures. With so much work taking up more hours than the days held, they had little time to spend with each other, just on their own, and for the first time in a long time, they were so exhausted by the end of the day that they slept in their own beds, alone, more often than not.

Finally, their NEWTs were upon them, and an unnatural hush fell upon the castle for the next two and a half weeks. Both Hermione's and Draco's final exam was Arithmancy, on the final Tuesday of term, and when they were finally told to put down their quills after a long two hours, Hermione smiled a tired smile and felt as if a giant weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Wanting nothing more than to sleep for a week, she waited patiently for the papers to be collected before McGonagall dismissed them from the hall.

When she reached the entrance she found Draco waiting at the doors for her, "You look exhausted." He said.

Hermione laughed, "So do you." She said, as he took her hand, "But I am, I could sleep for days." She admitted.

"I don't know about you, but I would like to enjoy the sun for once," Draco said, leading her out to the grounds, where the sun was shining bright, not a cloud in the sky, the warmth of summer finally upon them.

Hermione grinned, "Are you sure your delicate skin can handle so much sunlight?" she mocked.

"It's true my skin is rather sensitive to the sunlight, but we're in the furthest reaches of Scotland, not the Australian outback, I think I'll be ok." He retorted as they flopped down on grass near the lake, in a part of the grounds where few people ventured as it was a little too close to the forbidden forest for the comfort of some.

They laid in silence for a few moments, just relaxing, and drinking in the calm and freedom that accompanied the end of the exams.

"Have you thought about what you're doing next?" Draco asked suddenly, looking intently at the sky.

Hermione turned her head to the side, "What do you mean?" She asked.

Draco took a breath, "When you leave Hogwarts." He clarified, "I know you have your Ministry placement, but are you staying with your parents? Or moving in with Potter and Weasley?" He asked, trying to sound casual, but Hermione heard something in his tone that she couldn't quite place.

"The latter, to start with," Hermione said slowly, "But now I have the Ministry payout, I'd like to find my own place I think. An apartment or something, in Muggle London would be nice. What about you?" She asked.

"It would be nice to get out of the Manor for a bit." Draco said, "I was thinking of getting a place in London, as well." He turned, then, rolling onto his side and looking at Hermione intently.

"Do you want to find a place together?" He asked quickly, and Hermione thought she detected a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Hermione turned onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow, mirroring his position, "Are you serious?" she asked, "You're asking me to move in with you?"

Draco dropped his eyes from hers, "You don't have to if you don't want," he said quickly, "I just thought…"

Hermione smiled, "No," she said quickly, "I want to. I think it would be great."

Draco's eyes snapped back up to hers, a hesitant smile coming onto his lips, "You mean that?" he clarified, and Hermione nodded, smiling.

"Living together and working together," Hermione said, with a grin, "You don't think it will be too much?"

Draco smirked, "We've basically been doing it all year, if you think about it," He told her, "Except this time, we won't have separate rooms."

Hermione grinned, "I think I can handle that," she said, before leaning in to place a kiss on his lips.

Draco immediately pulled Hermione's body to his, deepening the kiss without a moments hesitation. Hermione allowed it without a seconds thought, and for the first time in weeks, they spent hours, just the two of them, enjoying each other with no distractions, allowing their hands to explore each other slowly and thoroughly until they could take it no longer, and needed to be even closer, at which point they retired to their tower.

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_**A/N: There it is folks, the penultimate chapter! I can't believe we've finally made it to the end. Only one more chapter left, You guys have been amazing! Truly amazing. Everyone who has read, each person who has added me to their favourites or alerts, or both, and all who have given me review after review, you've all made this story so much fun to write, and I can honestly say I couldn't have reached this point without all of your support and feedback.**_

_**I have a busy schedule the next few days, but I will get workin on the final chapter as soon as I can, I don't want to keep you waiting as long as I did for this one, but I daren't promise a speedy update.**_

_**Thanks again for reading, let me know what you thought**_

_**xBx**_


	30. Chapter 30: Epilogue

_**A/N: Just a quick one: Thank you to everyone who has read, and thanks for all my reviews. I've just finished replying to them and I have to admit, I got a little emotional lol I always do when I'm getting to the end.**_

_**So here's the final piece, I hope you all enjoy it.**_

_**xBx**_

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**~ Chapter 30/Epilogue: Thirteen Months Later ~**

Hermione struggled through the door of their apartment just after six, satchel and multiple files in one hand, her house keys in the other, her phone sandwiched between her ear and shoulder. As soon as Hermione and Draco had left Hogwarts, it had only taken them a couple of weeks to find an apartment they both liked, in Knigtsbridge, right in the centre of London. Two weeks later, after all the papers had been signed and payments made, they moved into their spacious two bedroom home, and had been living there happily ever since.

"Beth, hang on two seconds," Hermione said, struggling to pull the key from the lock, "I just got home." She explained, finally wrenching the key free, bumping the door closed with her body. She walked along the hallway, depositing the files down on the side table and took the phone back in her now free hand.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" Hermione asked, and Beth repeated her question about an email she had sent her with the details of a potential property in Newcastle that was about to come onto the market.

"Yes, I looked it over on my way home," Hermione said, "It looks good, but it depends on the price – any chance you can get hold of the seller, start up discussions before the place goes up online?" she asked, as she made her way to the end of the hall and went into the large, open plan living space, that spanned the entire length of the apartment.

"I spoke to him this afternoon, asked if he could hold off putting it on the market until after the weekend," Beth admitted, "It would be great if you could get up here on Saturday," she hedged, "Take a look at the place? If it looks as good in the flesh as it does in the photos it would be perfect. And the sooner you see it, the sooner we can start negotiating."

Hermione sighed, "I guess I'll see you Saturday." She said, as Draco came out of the Kitchen with an almost nervous smile and a glass of wine, "I have to go," she said, giving Draco a shrewd look, "Draco has a nervous smile, so he's either done something bad, or he's up to something."

Draco frowned, even more so when he heard the laughter from the other end of the phone.

"I'll call you tomorrow to finalise an itinerary for Saturday," Hermione said before hanging up and putting her phone on the long dining table.

"I haven't done anything wrong," Draco said, handing Hermione the glass he was carrying, before giving her a quick kiss, "Hi." He smiled.

Hermione smiled back, "Hi." She replied, only then did she take in the dining table, set for what looked like a three course dinner for two, table candles already lit. "What's going on?" she asked shrewdly.

Draco shrugged, "Can't a guy be romantic every now and then?" he asked, turning back into the kitchen, from where some delicious smells were coming.

"I guess so," Hermione said, "Why today though?" she asked, wondering if she had forgotten some sort of anniversary.

Draco had been hoping she would ask that, "It's July 23rd," he told her with a smirk.

Hermione frowned, "What's special about July 23rd?" she asked warily.

Draco's smirk widened, "Absolutely fuck all." He said, and Hermione felt the stirrings of a memory tugging at her mind. She smiled when the memory dawned on her,

"That's what I said about today's date, back at Hogwarts, when you asked me why I hated Valentine's Day." She remembered the conversation from their final year. "I can't believe you remembered that."

Draco shrugged, "It's surprising what I remember, I actually have a really good memory." He bragged, "Anyway," he said, changing the subject as he checked something in the oven, "How was your day?"

"Long," Hermione said, "I got an emergency call out this morning, a Hippogriff escaped from a farm in Derbyshire, ended up wondering down the main street in Ripley, resulted in a lot of paperwork." Hermione said, rolling her eyes, while Draco laughed.

"I would have loved to see those Muggles' faces." He chuckled,

"There were some priceless expressions," Hermione admitted with a laugh, "How was your day? I didn't see you in the Ministry this afternoon. Do you want me to do anything, by the way?" she asked.

Draco shook his head, and steered her back to the dining table, "I have everything under control," he told her, "Now sit. And I wasn't at the Ministry this afternoon, I took it off." He told her without giving her an explanation.

"Alright for some." Hermione muttered as Draco went to serve up the first course. When they started eating, Draco asked her about the phone call she was on when she got home, and Hermione told him of Beth's find for the next clinic development.

"So I will be going up to Newcastle Saturday morning. You should come too," Hermione suggested, "We could make a weekend of it."

Draco nodded his agreement, "Sounds like a plan. I don't think we've actually been away together, on a proper holiday, have we?" He asked.

"What are you talking about," Hermione laughed, "We've been to Italy and France, for a week at a time."

"Yes," Draco conceded, "But we went for business, mainly."

Hermione smirked, "Your business took all of two days. I hope you didn't consider the rest of the time as 'business', otherwise I will be offended." She teased.

"That was a lot more fun than business," Draco smirked back, "But still, I think we need a holiday." He said again, clearing the first course and bringing out the second.

"Alright," Hermione agreed, "We'll go skiing."

"Skiing?" Draco said warily, Hermione had described the muggle sport to him some time ago and he thought it sounded ridiculous – or rather, he had a vague suspicion he would look ridiculous attempting it.

"Yes, skiing." Hermione smiled, "We'll go at Christmas or New Year, I'll take you to my family's chalet in the Alps. You'll love it. And if skiing really isn't your thing, there are plenty of other things to do." She assured him.

"Alright," Draco conceded, and then changed the subject, "What kept you behind so late? Surely the Hippogriff didn't cause _that_ amount of paperwork?"

Hermione laughed, "It took a good couple of hours, but no, it wasn't the hippogriff. I've been drawing up some new legislation on elf rights. It really is a ball-ache trying to get the wordings right. I'm not even a fifth of the way through it all yet, and I've already re-written things three times over to make sure it's thorough and correct." Hermione ranted, and Draco couldn't help but smile.

Sure, she moaned about all the paperwork, but he could see it in her eyes just how much she loved her job, and she was proud of her job as well. And Draco couldn't blame her for that, hell, _he_ was proud of her and all the work she was doing. Only one year out of Hogwarts and she was one of the most respected members of her department. As a hunter, she was certainly the best, nothing was too difficult for her, and she always made the catch. Her paperwork was always done efficiently, in detail, and handed in early (no matter how old she got, he suspected she would never be able to let go of that obsession for being top of the class).

On top of her job, she was working with contacts in Wizarding Law, and finding time to draw up legislations and laws to promote the welfare and fair treatment of house elves. Not to mention running the development of her family's business. With the help of Beth, Hermione had purchased her first commercial property in the city centre of Nottingham within one month out of school, and within six months the place had been renovated, kitted out to the highest specifications, staffed and opened. It was bringing in a steady clientele that was still continuing to grow. And now that the place had been going successfully for six months, Hermione and her parents had agreed the timing was right to start on the next clinic.

Draco had also been fairly busy since leaving Hogwarts: he had taken up a position in the Muggle Business Liaison office in the Law Department, much to everyone's surprise. But as Draco had a couple of Muggle business ventures under his belt, what with the cocktail bar in York, and one of his Italian vineyards, it seemed like the logical place to go. Their bar in York was continuing to thrive, and had once again become _the_ place to be seen. He and Hermione had also begun to discuss the possibility of turning the place into a chain, and opening other clubs in other cities – they had even begun looking for somewhere in London, but as Beth would be taking on the development project, they had decided it would be best to wait until the Newcastle clinic was open, before stealing away her focus. Earlier in the year, Draco had also purchased another winery, this time in France, and thanks to his very public connection with the Roseby-Grangers, Draco Malfoy was slowly becoming a household name in the Muggle world.

Hermione's parents continued to do a lot of charity work, and now that Hermione was out of school, she and Draco were always guests at any function or fundraiser that her parents hosted, and before long Hermione and Draco were considered to be _the_ hot couple that everyone wanted to be, in both the Muggle and Wizarding world alike. The Malfoy's public profile was beginning to take a definite upturn, although a lot of the Wizarding world still disliked the family, and the crimes of the father were never going to be forgotten or forgiven, they began to see Draco in a different light, and slowly but surely, more people were beginning to give him a second chance. At Hermione's suggestion, they had started hosting their own benefits and fundraisers for various Wizarding causes and foundations that had sprung up in the aftermath of the war, the first ones of which Harry graciously allowed to be hosted at Grimmauld Place, but the most recent had been successfully held at Malfoy Manor. It was now very clear to everyone that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Roseby-Granger were an unstoppable force, and heading to be the most successful entrepreneurs before they even reached twenty-five: Separately, their success was great, but together they were simply phenomenal. And Draco knew this, he had known it for a while: he loved her more than life itself, together they could accomplish absolutely anything, and he knew as soon as they started their life together in Muggle London that he wanted to be with her for the rest of his life and after.

"So why did you take the afternoon off?" Hermione asked, after giving Draco a full rundown on the part of the legislation she was working on.

Draco shrugged, "Had to stuff to do," he said evasively, which immediately made Hermione suspicious.

"What stuff?" she pressed.

"Damn it, woman, why do you have to know everything?" Draco said, beginning to get uncomfortable.

Hermione looked at him like he was stupid, "I'm Hermione Granger, it's what I do." She reminded him. "So come on, where did you go?" she pressed.

"Shopping," He said evasively, as they finished the main, and he immediately set about organising dessert.

"Shopping?" Hermione asked, laughter in her voice, "Since when do you shop? What kind of shopping?" She bugged him.

Draco sighed as he sat back down and topped up their wine, "Seriously Hermione, can't you just leave it?" he whined, "Does it really matter?"

"But you never shop," Hermione pressed, really not letting it go, much to Draco's annoyance.

"You're ruining it." He said simply, "You're taking away all the element of surprise with all your questions. Just let it go, please?" He asked her.

"What surprise?" Hermione asked, looking a little wary now, but determined to find out none the less.

Draco actually let out a little growl of frustration, "Sweet Salazar, I can't take this," he muttered, "Fine, I went ring shopping. Happy now?" he told her.

Hermione frowned, "Since when do you wear rings?" she asked.

Draco actually snorted, "You know for someone so smart, you can be so stupid sometimes." He told her, pulling out a square box, from his pocket, and putting it on the table, "I don't. But I want you to wear one. I was going to propose, and it was going to be romantic. But you and your bloody incessant questioning drained the romance somewhat." He told her, and for once Hermione didn't have a retort.

She stared at the box sat between them on the table, looked up at Draco, back down to the box once more, before resting her eyes on Draco again.

"Oh," she said, completely lost for words, "Was?" she asked then, and Draco smirked, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across is chest. "Does that mean you're not going to ask any more?" She asked him.

Draco shrugged, "Don't know now," he teased, "depends if you want the ring or not."

Hermione gave him a smirk to match his own, "I never said I didn't want the ring, this hand always does seem a little bare." She commented wiggling the fingers of her right hand.

Draco's eyes narrowed, but his smirk remained, "It wasn't made for your right hand." He told her.

Hermione grinned wickedly, "Well it's not going on my left unless you ask me the question." She countered.

"You are hard work, Granger." Draco said, shaking his head, but he was smiling as he reached out and took the box, opening it and retrieving the ring inside.

He took a deep breath, "Hermione Granger-"

"ah-ah," Her smirked shaking her head slowly from side to side, interrupting him. Draco frowned and Hermione looked significantly down to the floor, jabbing a finger in the same direction, before looking back up at Draco's scowl.

"Seriously?" was all he said.

"And here I was, thinking you were wanting to be romantic," she teased.

"Fine," Draco glared, but Hermione could see he was fighting back the urge to laugh, as he left his seat and went down on one knee in front of her. "Lady Hermione Roseby-Granger," he started again, saying her full title this time, in a way that made Hermione glare, "Will you marry me?"

Hermione grinned then, her scowl forgotten, not taking her eyes from his she nodded, "You bet your arse, I will." She said and held out her left hand, causing him to laugh.

Draco slid the ring onto her finger, where it fit perfectly. Only then did Hermione look at the ring: It wasn't small, but it wasn't as big as that ridiculous ruby she had once worn. The main stone was a diamond of brilliant clarity in an old European cut set on a platinum band, with a smaller emerald on either side, it was simple, tasteful, yet elegant and screamed expense without all the ostentations.

"It's perfect." She said, grinning up at him.

"I know." Draco said smugly, before kissing her. When the kiss ended, Draco took his seat again and watched Hermione admire her knew ring, a broad smile on her face. She looked up soon enough, giving Draco a glance and starting to bite her lip.

Draco rolled his eyes, "You want to go tell Weaselette and Potter, don't you?" he said, knowing her well.

"Little bit," Hermione admitted, grinning. "And Ginny made me promise, swear an oath and everything, that I not keep anything like this from her again. Seriously, it took all my strength to convince her not to do an unbreakable vow, she was adamant I had to tell her things as soon as they happen from now on." She admitted.

"Fine," Draco conceded, "But can we at least finish dessert first?" he asked.

Hermione gave him a sly grin, "I thought we'd save dessert until we got back." She told him suggestively. "So the quicker we go tell the, the quicker we can come home…" she trailed off.

Draco barely thought about it, he simply stood up and grabbed Hermione's hand pulling her up with him, "Lets go." He said, before apparating them to the top step of Number 12.

"Could you at least have let me grab a jacket?" Hermione complained as she knocked on the door.

"It's summer, Hermione. Suck it up." Draco teased, as the door opened and Kreacher let them into the house with his usual smile and greeting, before leading them up to the drawing room where Harry, Ginny and Ron were all gathered.

"What are you two doing here?" Harry asked pleasantly, "I didn't know you were planning to drop by."

"We weren't, but apparently Weaselette has to know everything immediately," Draco scowled, taking a seat on one of the chairs and pulling Hermione onto his lap.

Both Harry and Ron looked confused at this explanation, but Ginny grinned and her eyes widened.

"Oh my god," Ginny said, looking directly at Draco, "You did it, didn't you? You asked her?" she said, struggling to contain a squeal.

Draco's brow furrowed, "How the hell do you know I was planning on asking anything?" he asked.

"Blaise." Ginny said, as if Draco was stupid, and it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Of course, I should have known that git couldn't keep his mouth shut."

"What are we missing?" Ron asked, getting fed up of being left out of the loop.

Hermione answered, the smile that had been on her lips since she had arrived widened as she spoke, "Draco proposed." She said, holding out her left hand to show off her ring, "We're getting married." She declared.

Ginny finally let out her squeal, jumping from the couch to grab Hermione's hand, yanking her off Draco's lap to pull her into a hug, "Congratulations!" She said, before pulling back and scrutinising the ring, "Nice," she commended, looking over Hermione's shoulder at Draco, who smirked in response.

Ron offered his congratulations next, giving Hermione a hug, "I'm really happy for you, 'Mione." He told her, before going over to Draco to shake his hand. There was still some awkwardness between the two of them, and they would never be the best of friends, but they were certainly more than civil to each other nowadays, all enmity long forgotten.

"Congrats, mate." Ron said, "You make a great couple, I really mean it," ho told Draco truthfully. "Just make sure you keep making happy, otherwise you'll have the wrath of the Weasleys to deal with." Ron warned, with only the tiniest hint of a joke.

Draco grinned, "I wouldn't expect anything less." He said.

"So, just to be clear," Harry said, with a small sly smile, "This one's legit, right?" he asked Hermione, who scowled at him before slapping him hard on his arm.

"Yes, this one's legit!" Hermione scolded, "will you ever let me forget about that?" she asked.

Harry grinned and shook his head, "I don't think so," he teased, "Do I get to make a speech at your wedding?" he asked and Hermione scowled, but before she could respond, Ginny let out another excited squeal.

"The wedding!" She exclaimed, "Have you set a date yet? Have you decided on the season at least? And is it going to be Muggle or magical?" she asked, "Because you both have high profiles in both worlds. Oh my god!" she said, suddenly getting even more excited, causing Hermione to step back in alarm.

"Do both!" Ginny declared, "Have two weddings, you can afford it. Oh please let me help you plan, this will be spectacular." And then she went off talking about dresses and flowers, about catering and themes. Hermione sank back into Draco's lap, still looking slightly alarmed at Ginny's fervour.

"We have to keep Ginny away from Mother," Hermione whispered, looking up at Draco, "I didn't know she had this in her. Can we go home yet?" she asked

Draco chuckled, "You wanted to come here, you're going to have to deal with the fallout." He teased. Ginny was still going full flow, saying something about bridesmaids and ushers, "It sounds like our wedding is going to be getting out of control pretty fast." Draco commented

"Wedding?" Hermione said, "I think you mean _weddings_. Bet you're wishing you hadn't asked me now, aren't you?" She joked.

Draco looked down at her and smiled, "Not at all." He assured her, before placing a loving kiss on her lips.

"OI!" The were rudely interrupted by a pillow hitting both their heads, "Are you even listening to me?" Ginny demanded, as Hermione and Draco rested their foreheads together, sighing in unison, before chuckling. Yep, they were in for their fair share of headaches before they made it down the aisle.

_Fin_

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_**A/N: So there it is, the end. Okay so I realise this is a lot shorter than all the other chapters, it was actually shorter than I had planned, but there is a reason for it.**_

_**A couple of people had mentioned the idea of doing a sequel in their reviews, and while I hadn't intended on doing one, this idea has rooted itself in my mind, and it seems I already have the the general outline and part of the first chapter written lol. **_

_**If anyone is interested in reading the sequel, it will be called **_**Enlivened by the Future_ and I will try an post the first chapter in a month or so, and you''ll be able to find details about it on my profile. I have started working on another fic which I will start posting next week, so I'll be writing the both along side each other._**

**_I would just like to say a final thank you to everyone who has read, thank you for adding me to favourites and alerts, and most of all, a huge thank you to for all my wonderful reviews. It's been so much fun writing this fic, and I'm a little bit sad that it's come to an end, but I can't wait to start on the sequel. You guys have been amazing!_**

**_I love you all_**

**_xBx_**


	31. Sequel

**_A/N: I finally got it done. The sequel is up, I haven't put the whole chapter in here, but I've put in a taster (just to be mean lol)_**

**_If you like what you read, please check out the full one. You'll be able to find it on my page as it's already up and running :)_**

**_Thanks for all my reviews to Tainted, you guys have been amazing!_**

**_xBx_**

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**Enlivened by the Future**

**~ Chapter 1: House Hunting ~**

"It's too small." Draco said, bluntly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and then smiled apologetically at the estate agent. This was the third apartment they had seen today, and while Draco hadn't discounted this one as quick as the others, he still dismissed it ridiculously quick – at least they had made it through the front door this time.

"It's an apartment," Hermione said tiredly, "Not a manor house, it's supposed to be small. And we've barely looked at half of it." She reminded him.

"It only has one bedroom." Draco stated, clearly not being put off his decision.

"We really only need one bedroom," Hermione pointed out, "The space is adequate."

"It's not." Draco insisted, and Hermione felt close to screaming at his stubbornness - it really had been a long day, and it was only the middle of the afternoon. "We need space for our work," He pointed out, "There's no room to hold meetings here."

"Okay, for starters, we are not holding meetings in our home." Hermione declared, in her infamous no-nonsense voice. her hands even moving to her hips, making Draco's mouth itch into a small smile.

"If either of us are going to hold any meetings in the city, we will do it at a hotel: we will book out an entire suite, or function room. This is going to be our _home_, not our office." Hermione thought for a moment, and then gave a resigned sigh, "But I suppose you have a point about business: we _do,_ do a lot of work from home." She looked at the estate agent, trying her best to ignore Draco's smug look,

"We're going to need a second bedroom: a guest room that can be used primarily as a study." Hermione stated, "And good entertaining space, we like dinner parties." She added as an afterthough, before turning back to Draco, "You were right, it's too small."

Draco smirked, "I'm always right." Earning himself that famous Hermione-Granger-Eyeroll, which only made him smirk more.

"I may have something that could suit you." Their agent said hesitantly, "It hasn't gone on the market yet – I just picked up the keys from the seller on my way to meet you. I haven't even photographed the place yet. It's a two bedroom flat, here in Knightsbride, just around the corner. Top floor, lots of space, open plan and it's newly renovated, but it is not quite finished." She said, "Would you like to see it?"

"When you say not quite finished?" Hermione asked slowly, the last thing she needed was a home renovation project on top of everything else she was embarking on.

"All the major work is done: New kitchen and bathrooms, carpets in the bedrooms. All the rooms have been painted with a base coat, but there are no finishing coats done – so it's a blank canvas for you." The agent said, trying to sell the property, "And the floor boards in the rest of the house will need finishing off – staining and varnishing."

"Original floorboards?" Hermione asked, and the agent nodded.

"One of a number of original features: there's a fireplace in the living area, as well as one in the master suite. High ceilings, original cornices, and the windows and doors have been expertly restored in sypathy with the building." The agent said, continuing in her selling tone.

Hermione looked at Draco and shrugged, "It's worth a look." She said to him; She had that determined glint in her eye and Draco knew it was futile to resist.

"Lead the way," Draco sighed, "But this is the last one today. I'm over it already, and I'm hungry." He complained.

"Stop pouting like a spoilt child," Hermione scolded as they followed the estate agent. God knows what she thought of their bickering: no doubt she thought Draco and Hermione buying a place together was the stupidest idea, as they had done nothing but bicker since viewing the first apartment today. And it had been the same two days ago when they had been shown four others.

But that was just how they were: their bickering wasn't done in anger, and they always laughed about it after. If anything, their bickering was more playful than serious, but to an outsider who didn't truly understand their dynamic, it could be quite daunting to hear them argue.

"When we're done here, we'll take the tube to Covent Garden, pick up some take-out and call in on Harry." Hermione said, trying to placate him, as they made they way up the street.

"Oh joy, just what I want to endure when I'm tired and hungry, Potter and Weasel." Draco drawled.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Relax, Ron won't be there, apparently he has a date." She told him.

"Seriously?" Draco asked.

"Yes, seriously." Hermione said, "It will just be Harry and Ginny. Blaise is busy, apparently." She commented, as the agent came to stop, outside a long, white, four storey terraced building that stretched the whole street.

"Here we are," She smiled, walking up the steps to one of the many large front doors of the building. Upon entering the foyer, it was bright and surprisingly airy, with a large staircase winding up to the next floor. "There are two flats on each floor," the agent told the, signalling to the doors on either side of the hallway, before venturing up the stairs.

On the fourth floor, they stopped outside a door with a large '8G' on it, and the agent fished around in her purse for the correct key. When they entered, Hermione smiled: the place was certainly spacious, and they were only in the hallway.

The hallway was long, but wide enough that it would never feel cramped; there were three doors along the right hand wall, but only one on the left hand wall, down at the end. They took the first door on the right to begin with, and found themselves in a good-sized room, with a plush cream carpet. "The second bedroom, with built in wardrobes." The agent said, "Which you can easily turn into a suitable study."

Hermione nodded: The wardrobes ran the entire length of the left hand wall, most of the back wall, opposite the door was taken up with the large windows, but the right hand wall was bare.

"We can build in a desk that runs the entire wall," Hermione gestured, moving into the room, "Have it continuing through the corner up to the door?" She suggested. "Plenty of room for us both – have shelving running up the walls, we'll fit all our files in here no problem. There would still be plenty of room for a couch, or sofa-bed if we ever have anyone over to stay."

"It could work." Draco said, and Hermione smirked. She knew he had no complaints, but he wasn't one to get enthusiastic just yet.

They moved back into the hall to the next room, adjacent to the second bedroom: The main bathroom, recently done to the highest specifications complete with a free standing roll top bath, separate shower, and a good sized vanity unity with a large sink and plenty of storage space. "Very nice." Hermione commended, and she could already picture herself soaking in that bathtub after a long day of work.

The final room off the right side of the hallway was the master suite, and it was fantastic – even Draco couldn't complain about the size. It was carpeted the same as the second bedroom, but it was twice the size. The back wall was taken up mostly by windows again, the bed would go on the right hand wall; a king size bed would fit in easy, with plenty of room on either side for bedside tables. The left side of the room housed a large walk in closet, with an entrance at either end. They walked into the room to explore, and found the door to the en-suite next to the door to the hallway: The en-suite was the same width as the hallway and housed a double shower, separate his and hers sinks, and once again plenty of storage space.

"This is great," Hermione said grinning, looking at Draco, "Even you can't fault this I'm sure."

"There are still a few things left to do to the place before it's ready to live in." Draco reminded her, but Hermione could tell he liked the place.

"Painting, furnishing, and the floors need finishing." Hermione said, "It's nothing more than we'd want to do on any place we find: if anything, this is better. It's already a blank canvas, we won't need to do anything to ready it, just put our stamp on it right away." She grinned.

"So far so good." Draco said to the agent, "Show us the living space."

Their agent smiled, and turned back into the hall and on through the doorway opposite to the bedroom door. Hermione actually gasped aloud at what she walked into, and even Draco let out a whistle.

"I'll admit I'm impressed." Draco said.

The entire right side of the apartment was completely open plan: the doorway they had come through took them into what would probably be the dining area, a space which could fit a dining table big enough to seat ten easy. To their right was the kitchen, all brand new with built in, first-rate appliances.

"White goods included?" Hermione asked; Draco had no idea what the hell that meant, so he just kept quiet.

The agent nodded, walking into the kitchen and going through it, "All in built, you've got your fridge-freezer, dishwasher and washing machine. The oven is electric, but the hob is gas." She explained – half of this went straight over Draco's head, and he could see Hermione giving him an amused glance, knowing full well he didn't have a clue. He scowled at her, and she just stuck out her tongue.

The kitchen sink was set in an island bench top, which doubled as a breakfast bar, which was perfectly in line with a set of double French-doors that lead out onto a balcony, which looked out onto the street that fronted the property. There were then five sets of windows that spanned the length of the of the whole room, before another set of double French-doors led out to another balcony in the sitting area. On the far wall, which backed onto the outside foyer, there was a large ornate, and clearly original, fireplace, around which three couches could easily be placed.

"Is the fireplace usable?" Draco asked; he knew enough about muggle properties to know that full working original fireplaces were becoming rare.

The estate agent smiled, "Of course," she said "You should be able to get an excellent blaze going in there, enough to heat the entire room without a problem."

Draco nodded thoughtfully; the fireplace was certainly big enough for a person to stand in, and he wondered how difficult it would be to get it connected to the Floo network – surely not too difficult, especially if the request came from Hermione: the ministry wouldn't refuse her anything.

Hermione looked at Draco, barely containing her grin, "I love it." She said, and Draco could see in her eyes that it was a complete understatement.

"I can see that," he said, with a smile, before looking up at the agent, "What's the asking price?" He asked.

"It's a little over the budget you gave me," she admitted. Draco smiled: considering the fortune he was able to access, and Hermione's generous payout from the Ministry - not to mention her own fortune - price really wasn't an issue. "But I'm sure he'll be willing to negotiate." She offered.

"Can we take another look around, and discuss it?" Hermione asked with courtesy.

They remained at the flat for another half an hour, the agent remained in the kitchen while Hermione and Draco took another look around the place, this time discussing in more detail how they could furnish it, and spending a good ten minutes arguing over the colour scheme of the master suite.

"We are not having emerald green," Hermione said flatly.

"Why not?" Draco countered, "Your bedroom at your parent's house is green." He pointed out.

"Precisely," Hermione said, "I'm moving out of there for change, not to go somewhere that looks the same."

"Well we sure as hell aren't having it red. There is no way I am sleeping in a room decorated like Gryffindor Tower." Draco retorted.

Hermione smirked, "You didn't complain at school when you slept in my room." She reminded him.

"That was different: you didn't personally choose the colour scheme, and by the time it came to sleep I was often too exhausted to really care about the colour scheme." He smirked, coming up to her and snaking his hands around her waist, causing her to feel that familiar flutter in her stomach that always accompanied his touch – she wondered briefly if that feeling would ever disappear, before hoping adamantly that it never would.

Hermione grinned, "Anyway, I wasn't going to suggest Gryffindor colours, I was going to suggest something more neutral." She assured him, before kissing him.

When they broke apart, Hermione asked, "Do you like it?"

Draco grinned, "Being kissed by you? I love it." He said, before kissing her again.

Hermione laughed against his lips, and hit him playfully in the chest, "No," she said, when they broke apart again, "The apartment. Do you like it?"

Draco thought for a moment, "It does seem perfect for us, for now. It has the space we need, but it's not too big. We can really make it our own. I don't know if I'd pay the full asking price, though." He said.

"But we should at least make an offer," Hermione said, hopefully.

Draco nodded, "Yeah, we should." He agreed. "Alright, let's go talk numbers," he said, taking her hand and moving back into the kitchen.

* * *

_**A/N: SO I cut you off half way through - I know, I'm mean, and I'm sorry :(**_

_**I'll leave this on Tainted, but any future updates to Enlivened by the Future won't be posted on here, this will be the last time Tainted is updated.**_

_**Thanks again to you all for reading :)**_

_**xBx**_


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